"Jerusalem, it is dark," he said again, and he recalled Wilson's reply, "Have the gas lit." Aye, that would be pleasant. For a moment he saw the streets of London town with a diminuendo in lamps, and then he pulled himself together. It breezed up a bit and was four bells. He hove the log, and went along the lee side to go below to enter it on the slate. She made a biggish weather roll, and the decks being slippery, he steadied himself and put his head outside the rail to take a look ahead. And at that moment, as he says, he saw the Simoom vigia. His heart stood still, and then thumped furiously. In spite of the hiss of the seas, and the windy roar of the rigging, the sound of his pulse in his ears was like the sound of a pump. He was paralysed, and yet he knew that the Palembang was rushing on destruction.
"Hard a starboard!" he said coolly, but in a choking voice.
"Sir?" said the astounded man at the wheel.
"Hard a starboard, damn you," said Green fiercely.
And the helmsman ground the wheel hard down with the air of a surprised martyr. As the Palembang bowed and came round almost at right angles to her former course, Green swears he saw broken water, though he lost the sharp pinnacle of rock he had seen at first.
Old Spiller, who was not asleep, came up on deck in a hurry.
"What's she off her course for?"
Green told him, and Spiller swore.
"You saw nothing, you damn fool."
"I did."