The captain had charge of the deck from eight to twelve; but he only once approached us to say that a lantern containing an end of candle had been placed in each of our berths; ‘and I will ask you both,’ he added, ‘to mind your fire, for we’re full up with dry light goods in the steerage.’ He then returned to the side of the deck he had crossed from, and did not again offer to approach us.
You will suppose that the girl and I could talk of nothing but the captain’s intentions, the probable condition of his intellect, and the like.
‘He may refuse to part with me,’ said I, ‘and yet be perfectly willing to send you on board of the first homeward-bound ship we sight. What then, Miss Temple?’
‘I could not travel alone. It is not endurable that such a man as Captain Braine should compel you, against your wishes, to remain with him! How could he do so? How could he compel you to take a star, as he calls it, whatever that may mean; and to keep watch?’ She sighed deeply. ‘Alas! my language is fast becoming that of the common sailor. To think of me talking to you about taking a star and keeping watch!’
‘And why not? Jack’s is a noble tongue. Omit the oaths, and there is no dialect more swelling and poetic than that of the sea.’
‘I detest it because it is forced upon me. An odious and dreadful experience obliges me to think and speak in it. Otherwise, I might rather like it. But tell me now, Mr. Dugdale, surely this captain could not compel you to remain with him?’
This led to a deal of talk. I did my utmost to reassure her; I exhorted her to bear in mind that whilst we were on board the barque, we were literally at the mercy of the skipper, who, down to the present moment, had certainly treated us with great humanity, though his behaviour and conversation in the main were undeniably of a lunatic sort. I bitterly condemned myself for losing my temper, and I entreated her to be patient, to control all resentment that the man might excite by purposed or involuntary insult, not to doubt that he would put her on board a ship proceeding home, and to leave me to play a part of my own that should keep us together.
‘For,’ said I, ‘since fate, cruel to you, but not to me, Miss Temple, has placed you so far in my keeping, I must be jealous of all interference down to the very termination of our adventure.’
‘I wish for no other companion,’ she exclaimed in a low voice; ‘my mother will thank you, Mr. Dugdale.’
‘And, please God, your mother shall,’ said I, ‘trifling as may be my claims upon her gratitude. But however my merits may turn out before we again sight Old England, I shall be abundantly satisfied if I believe that you think of me with more kindness than you did on board the Countess Ida.’