“It’s not the first time that has been thought of,” observed a third. “But hush, mates, that boy may hear; he looks like a sharp one.”
The men were silent till Paul walked farther aft, where he saw them still earnestly engaged in talking together. He considered what he ought to do. Should he tell Devereux what he had heard? Perhaps, after all, it meant nothing. He could trust Reuben; that is to say, Reuben would not betray him; but he might take part with the men. He would consult Croxton. He found old Jim after some time, but had no opportunity of speaking to him alone. There was an ominous scowl on the countenances of all the men, which confirmed his suspicions that something was wrong. Below they gathered together more in knots than usual, speaking in subdued voices. Whenever an officer approached, they were silent, and generally dispersed with an appearance of indifference. Thus two or three more days passed, and Paul felt as well able as ever to do his duty. It was the forenoon watch; the men were summoned to divisions. It was perfectly calm; no land was in sight; the sun struck down fiercely on their heads.
“There’s work in hand for us to-day,” exclaimed a topman, as he sprang on deck.
In a little time the order to furl sails was given. The men flew aloft.
“Reef topsails,” cried the first-lieutenant.
The men appeared to do the work slowly. Oaths and curses were hurled at them by the officers on duty. Paul took the opportunity of going down to see Devereux, who, with O’Grady and Alphonse, was still too weak to go on deck. He told him that he was afraid something was wrong. Devereux answered—
“I fear that the men are dissatisfied, but they dare do nothing. I pity them, though, poor fellows.”
The words were overheard by some of the idlers, as they are called below. While Paul was speaking to Devereux, Croxton came in. He also heard what had been said.
“Man is born to suffer,” he remarked. “He must submit, and leave the righting in the hands of Providence. He cannot right himself.”
His remarks were scarcely understood by those who heard him, even by Devereux, who, however, remembered them. After a time, Paul returned on deck. The captain was still exercising the men at furling sails. With watch in hand he stood on the quarter-deck, his rage increasing as he found that they could not or would not accomplish the work in the time he desired. At length he shouted in a voice which made the blood run cold in Paul’s veins—