"We do not ask it, sir."
"What do you desire?"
"Leave to throw him overboard—it is to save our own lives."
"I can't let you do any such thing; he's in nobody's way."
"But he's always a whistling. Only hark now, and in such a hurricane as this, it is dreadful to think of it. What else can we do, sir?—he's not human."
At this moment, the stranger's whistling came clear upon their ears; there was the same wild, unearthly notes as before, but the cadences were stronger, and there was a supernatural clearness in all the tones.
"There now," said another, "he's kicking the water cask with his heels."
"Confound the binnacle!" said the captain; "it sounds like short peals of thunder. Go and talk to him, lads."
"And if that won't do, sir, may we—"
"Don't ask me any questions. I don't think a score of the best men that were ever born could move him."