I looked: the water delicately brushed by the light wind flowed in nakedness under the shadow of the slowly soaring and enlarging cloud of white smoke. Not the minutest point of black, not the merest atom of fragment of wreck, was visible. I put down the glass with a quivering hand, and going to the rail, looked into the sea to conceal my moist eyes, too overcome to speak.
‘A good job you weren’t in that hull, mem,’ said the captain to Miss Temple; ‘it would be sky high with any one that had been there by this time: a devil of a mount, as Jack says. But you’re aboard a tidy little ship now. If so be that you are at all of a nautical judge, mem, cast your eyes aloft and tell me if there’s e’er an Indeeman or a man-of-war, too, if ye will, with spars stayed as my masts is, with such a fit of canvas, with such a knowing cocked-ear like look as the run of them yardarms has, with such mastheads tapering away like the holy spire of a meetinghouse, and that beautiful little skysail atop to sarve as a cloud for any tired angel that may be flying along to rest upon! Ha!’
He drew so deep a breath as he concluded that I turned to look at him. He stood gazing up at the canvas on the main as though in an ecstasy; his hands were crossed upon his breast after the manner of coy virgins in paintings; his right knee was crooked and projected; I could not have imagined so curious a figure off the stage. Indeed, I supposed he was acting now to divert Miss Temple. I glanced at the tough, sullen, storm darkened face of old Lush, to gather his opinion on the behaviour of this captain; but his expression was of wood, and there was no other meaning in it that I could distinguish save what was put there by the action of his jaws as he gnawed upon a junk of tobacco, carrying his sight from seawards to aloft and back again as regularly as the swing of the spars.
Miss Temple drew to my side with a manner of uneasiness about her. She whispered, while she seemed to be speaking of the wreck, motioning with her hand in the direction of the smoke that was slowly drawing on to our beam in a great staring, still-compacted mass, white as fog against the leaden heaven: ‘I believe he is not in his right mind.’
‘No matter,’ I swiftly replied; ‘his ship is sound. Captain,’ I exclaimed, ‘I hope you will have a spare cabin for this lady. For my part, you may sling me a hammock anywhere, or a rug and a plank will make me all the bed I want.’
‘Oh, there’s accommodation for ye both below,’ he answered; ‘there’s the mate’s berth unoccupied. The lady can have that. And next door to it there’s a cabin with a bunk in it. I’ll have it cleared out for you. Come down and see for yourselves.’
He led the way into the little cuddy, as I may term it, and conducted us to a hatch close against the two sleeping berths right aft. He descended a short flight of steps, and we found ourselves in ’tweendecks in which I should not have been able to stand erect with a tall hat on. It was gloomy down here. I could distinguish with difficulty a number of cases of light goods stowed from the deck to the beams, and completely blocking up all the forward portion of this part of the vessel. There were two cabins in the extremity corresponding with the cabins above, with such another small hatch as we had descended through lying close against them, but covered: the entrance as I took it to ‘the run’ or ‘lazarette.’ Captain Braine opened the cabin door on the port side, and we peered into a small but clean and airy berth lighted by a large scuttle. I noticed a couple of sea-chests, a suit of oilskins hanging under a little shelf full of books, a locker, a mattress, and a bundle of blankets in the bunk, a large chart of the English Channel nailed against the side, and other matters of a like sort.
‘You’ll be able to make yourself pretty comfortable here, mem,’ said Captain Braine.
‘Are there any rats?’ asked Miss Temple, rolling her eyes nervously over the deck.
‘Bless you, no!’ answered the captain. ‘At the very worst, a cockroach here and there, mem.’