The Second Mate appeared not to have heard him; at any rate, he made no reply; but bent, and straightened out a corner of the flag over the rigid figure in the lower bunk. There was a certain niceness in his action which made me warm towards him.
"He's white!" I thought to myself.
Out loud, I said:
"We've put Jacobs into his bunk, Sir."
The Mate jumped; then whizzed round, and stared at me as though I had been a ghost. The Second Mate turned also; but before he could speak, the Skipper took a step towards me.
"Is he all right?" he asked.
"Well, Sir," I said. "He's a bit queer; but I think it's possible he may be better, after a sleep."
"I hope so, too," he replied, and stepped out on deck. He went towards the starboard poop ladder, walking slowly. The Second went and stood by the lamp, and the Mate, after a quick glance at him, came out and followed the Skipper up on to the poop. It occurred to me then, like a flash, that the man had stumbled upon a portion of the truth. This accident coming so soon after that other! It was evident that, in his mind, he had connected them. I recollected the fragments of his remarks to the Second Mate. Then, those many minor happenings that had cropped up at different times, and at which he had sneered. I wondered whether he would begin to comprehend their significance—their beastly, sinister significance.
"Ah! Mr. Bully-Mate," I thought to myself. "You're in for a bad time if you've begun to understand."
Abruptly, my thoughts jumped to the vague future before us.