I could not stand his searching and angry look, and in turning my eye, it again fell on the cloak, which now seemed to be stretched out at greater length, and to be altogether more voluminous than it was before. I was forcibly struck with this, for I was certain no one had touched it.
“By heavens! it heaves,” I exclaimed, much moved—“how is this? I never thought to have believed such things,——it stirs again—it takes the figure of a man—as if it were a pall covering his body. Pray, Captain Transom, what trick is this?—Is there any thing below that cloak there?”
“What cloak do you mean?”
“Why, that blue one lying on the locker there—is there any cat or dog in the cabin? “—and I started on my legs.—“Captain Transom,” I continued, with great vehemence, “for the love of God tell me what is there below that cloak.”
He looked surprised beyond all measure.
“Why, Mr Cringle, I cannot for the soul of me comprehend you; indeed I cannot; but, Mafame, indulge him. See if there be any thing below my cloak.”
The servant walked to the locker, and lifted up the cape of it, and was in the act of taking it from the locker, when I impetuously, desired the man to leave it alone.
“I can’t look on him again,” said I; while the faintishness increased, so that I could hardly speak. “Don’t move the covering from his face, for God’s sake—don’t remove it,” and I lay back in my chair, screening my eyes from the lamp with my hands, and shuddering with an icy chill from head to foot.
The Captain, who had hitherto maintained the well-bred, patronizing, although somewhat distant, air of a superior officer to an inferior who was his guest, addressed me now in an altered tone, and with a brotherly kindness.
“Mr Cringle, I have some knowledge of you, and I know many of your friends; so I must take the liberty of an old acquaintance with you. This day’s work has been a severe one, and your share in it, especially after your past fatigues, has been very trying, and as I will report it, I hope it may clap a good spoke in your wheel; but you are overheated, and have been over-excited; fatigue has broken you down, and I must really request you will take something warm, and turn in.—Here, Mafame, get the carpenter’s mate to secure that cleat on the weather-side there, and sling my spare cot for Mr Cringle. You will be cooler here than in the gunroom.”