In a few minutes the bells struck and O’Toole came on deck, while the starboard watch filed out into gangway.
“It’s an apology I owe to Mr. Brown,” said the big fellow, “for he’s th’ right sort av man, an’ it would have been a pity had I broken his neck with that boot. Ye see, I’m of a very nervous temperament, an’ like th’ news av a thing broken gently. Me own mother was av th’ same nature, for whin th’ owld man died, through th’ interposition av Providence an’ th’ fore part av a steam-ingine, they had to appoint me brother Mike t’ break th’ news to her aisy like. So he sez, sez he, ‘My dear, ’tis a short toime th’ owld man will live now.’
“’An’ why?’ sez she; ‘can’t he drink more whiskey an’ curse harder than any man in town?’
“‘’Cause he’s dead,’ said Mike, and th’ owld woman always hild that th’ aisy manner Mike had in breaking av th’ news was th’ only thing that previnted her from dyin’ av th’ shock.”
I told him to be more careful in the future, and Brown, coming up at that moment in time to hear the second mate’s remarks, laughed good-humouredly, so I felt that there would be no further ill-feeling between them.
I gave O’Toole the course to steer, if the wind held as it was, and then went below and turned in. The glass over my bunk had fallen four-tenths during the day and appeared to be still going down rapidly. I watched it as I lay awake for a few moments and then suddenly dropped off into a sound sleep.
As the weather had been clear and wind light enough for skysails, I took no precautions to fix myself firmly in my bunk. I was, therefore, astonished to awake suddenly just in time to prevent myself from falling to the deck as the ship gave a sharp lurch and brought up with a jerk. Four bells struck, and I found I had only slept two hours, so, jamming myself in firmly with a blanket, I tried to sleep again.
I heard O’Toole’s footsteps on the deck overhead, and now and then an oath when he halted at the break of the poop. The vessel seemed to be off her course, for she now took a heavy rolling sea on the port beam that sent her jerking and switching along in a most uncomfortable manner.
Soon I heard O’Toole’s voice giving orders to take a pull in the foretopsail brace, followed by the tramp of men and clucking rattle of blocks. Then came the order to take in the skysails, and, with the creaking of halyards and distant slatting of canvas, I again lost consciousness.