Do you mean we're just
to give in, and be murdered, one after another?" "We've done all we can," I replied. "I don't know what else we can do,
unless we go below and lock ourselves in, every night." "That would be better than this," he said. "There'll be no one to go
below, or anything else, soon!" "But what if it came on to blow?" I asked. "We'd be having the sticks
blown out of her." "What if it came on to blow _now_?" he returned. "No one would go aloft,
if it were dark, you said, yourself! Besides, we could shorten her
_right_ down, first. I tell you, in a few days there won't be a chap
alive aboard this packet unless they jolly well do something!" "Don't shout," I warned him. "You'll have the Old Man hearing you." But
the young beggar was wound up, and would take no notice. "I will shout," he replied. "I want the Old Man to hear. I've a good
mind to go up and tell him." He started on a fresh tack. "Why don't the men do something?" he began. "They ought to damn well
make the Old Man put us into port! They ought--"

"For goodness sake, shut up, you little fool!" I said. "What's the good
of talking a lot of damned rot like that? You'll be getting yourself
into trouble." "I don't care," he replied. "I'm not going to be murdered!" "Look here," I said. "I told you before, that we shouldn't be able to
see the land, even if we made it." "You've no proof," he answered. "It's only your idea." "Well," I replied. "Proof, or no proof, the Skipper would only pile her
up, if he tried to make the land, with things as they are now." "Let him pile her up," he answered. "Let him jolly well pile her up! That would be better than staying out here to be pulled overboard, or
chucked down from aloft!" "Look here, Tammy--" I began; but just then the Second Mate sung out for
him, and he had to go. When he came back, I had started to walk to and
from, across the fore side of the mainmast. He joined me, and after a
minute, he started his wild talk again. "Look here, Tammy," I said, once more. "It's no use your talking like
you've been doing. Things are as they are, and it's no one's fault, and
nobody can help it. If you want to talk sensibly, I'll listen; if not,
then go and gas to someone else." With that, I returned to the port side, and got up on the spar, again,
intending to sit on the pinrail and have a bit of a talk with him. Before sitting down I glanced over, into the sea. The action had been
almost mechanical; yet, after a few instants, I was in a state of the
most intense excitement, and without withdrawing my gaze, I reached out
and caught Tammy's arm to attract his attention. "My God!" I muttered. "Look!" "What is it?" he asked, and bent over the rail, beside me. And this
is what we saw: a little distance below the surface there lay a
pale-coloured, slightly-domed disc. It seemed only a few feet down. Below it, we saw quite clearly, after a few moment's staring, the shadow
of a royal-yard, and, deeper, the gear and standing-rigging of a great
mast. Far down among the shadows I thought, presently, that I could make
out the immense, indefinite stretch of vast decks. "My God!" whispered Tammy, and shut up. But presently, he gave out a
short exclamation, as though an idea had come to him; and got down off
the spar, and ran forrard on to the fo'cas'le head. He came running
back, after a short look into the sea, to tell me that there was the
truck of another great mast coming up there, a bit off the bow, to
within a few feet of the surface of the sea. In the meantime, you know, I had been staring like mad down through the
water at the huge, shadowy mast just below me. I had traced out bit by
bit, until now I could clearly see the jackstay, running along the top
of the royal mast; and, you know, the royal itself was _set_. But, you know, what was getting at me more than anything, was a feeling
that there was movement down in the water there, among the rigging. I
_thought_ I could actually see, at times, things moving and glinting
faintly and rapidly to and fro in the gear. And once, I was practically
certain that something was on the royal-yard, moving in to the mast; as
though, you know, it might have come up the leech of the sail. And this
way, I got a beastly feeling that there were things swarming down there. Unconsciously, I must have leant further and further out over the side,
staring; and suddenly--good Lord! how I yelled--I overbalanced. I made a
sweeping grab, and caught the fore brace, and with that, I was back in a
moment upon the spar. In the same second, almost, it seemed to me that
the surface of the water above the submerged truck was broken, and I am
sure _now,_ I saw something a moment in the air against the ship's side
--a sort of shadow in the air; though I did not realise it at the time. Anyway, the next instant, Tammy gave out an awful scream, and was head
downwards over the rail, in a second. I had an idea _then_ that he was
jumping overboard. I collared him by the waist of his britchers, and one
knee, and then I had him down on the deck, and sat plump on him; for he
was struggling and shouting all the time, and I was so breathless and
shaken and gone to mush, I could not have trusted my hands to hold him. You see, I never thought _then_ it was anything but some influence at
work on him; and that he was trying to get loose to go over the side. But I know _now_ that I saw the shadow-man that had him. Only, at the
time, I was so mixed up, and with the one idea in my head, I was not
really able to notice anything, properly. But, afterwards, I
comprehended a bit (you can understand, can't you?) what I had seen at
the time without taking in. And even now looking back, I know that the shadow was only like a
faint-seen greyness in the daylight, against the whiteness of the decks,
clinging against Tammy. And there was I, all breathless and sweating, and quivery with my own
tumble, sitting on the little screeching beggar, and he fighting like a
mad thing; so that I thought I should never hold him. And then I heard the Second Mate shouting and there came running feet
along the deck. Then many hands were pulling and hauling, to get me off
him. "Bl--y cowyard!" sung out someone. "Hold him! Hold him!" I shouted. "He'll be overboard!" At that, they seemed to understand that I was not ill-treating the
youngster; for they stopped manhandling me, and allowed me to rise;
while two of them took hold of Tammy, and kept him safe. "What's the matter with him?" the Second Mate was singing out. "What's
happened?" "He's gone off his head, I think," I said. "What?" asked the Second Mate. But before I could answer him, Tammy
ceased suddenly to struggle, and flopped down upon the deck. "'e's fainted," said Plummer, with some sympathy. He looked at me, with
a puzzled, suspicious air. "What's 'appened? What's 'e been doin'?" "Take him aft into the berth!" ordered the Second Mate, a bit abruptly. It struck me that he wished to prevent questions.