Yet, strangely
enough, they were not looking at the thing among them; but away aft at
something in the darkness. "It's on the rail!" cried several voices. "Overboard!" called somebody, in an excited voice. "It's jumped over the
side!" "Ther' wer'n't nothin'!" said a man in the crowd. "Silence!" shouted the Old Man. "Where's the Mate? What's happened?" "Here, Sir," called the First Mate, shakily, from near the centre of the
group. "It's Jacobs, Sir. He--he--"

"What!" said the Skipper. "What!" "He--he's--he's--dead I think!" said the First Mate, in jerks. "Let me see," said the Old Man, in a quieter tone. The men had stood to one side to give him room, and he knelt beside the
man upon the deck. "Pass the lantern here, Jessop," he said. I stood by him, and held the light. The man was lying face downwards on
the deck. Under the light from the lantern, the Skipper turned him over
and looked at him. "Yes," he said, after a short examination. "He's dead." He stood up and regarded the body a moment, in silence. Then he turned
to the Second Mate, who had been standing by, during the last couple of
minutes. "Three!" he said, in a grim undertone. The Second Mate nodded, and cleared his voice. He seemed on the point of saying something; then he turned and looked at
Jacobs, and said nothing. "Three," repeated the Old Man. "Since eight bells!" He stooped and looked again at Jacobs. "Poor devil! poor devil!" he muttered. The Second Mate grunted some of the huskiness out of his throat, and
spoke. "Where must we take him?" he asked, quietly. "The two bunks are full." "You'll have to put him down on the deck by the lower bunk," replied the
Skipper. As they carried him away, I heard the Old Man make a sound that was
almost a groan. The rest of the men had gone forrard, and I do not think
he realised that I was standing by him

"My God! O, my God!" he muttered, and began to walk slowly aft. He had cause enough for groaning. There were three dead, and Stubbins
had gone utterly and completely. We never saw him again. XII


_The Council_


A few minutes later, the Second Mate came forrard again. I was still
standing near the rigging, holding the lantern, in an aimless sort of
way. "That you, Plummer?" he asked. "No, Sir," I said. "It's Jessop." "Where's Plummer, then?" he inquired. "I don't know, Sir," I answered. "I expect he's gone forrard. Shall I go
and tell him you want him?" "No, there's no need," he said. "Tie your lamp up in the rigging--on the
sheerpole there. Then go and get his, and shove it up on the starboard
side. After that you'd better go aft and give the two 'prentices a hand
in the lamp locker." "i, i, Sir," I replied, and proceeded to do as he directed. After I had
got the light from Plummer, and lashed it up to the starboard sherpole,
I hurried aft. I found Tammy and the other 'prentice in our watch, busy
in the locker, lighting lamps. "What are we doing?" I asked. "The Old Man's given orders to lash all the spare lamps we can find, in
the rigging, so as to have the decks light," said Tammy. "And a damned
good job too!" He handed me a couple of the lamps, and took two himself. "Come on," he said, and stepped out on deck. "We'll fix these in the
main rigging, and then I want to talk to you." "What about the mizzen?" I inquired. "Oh," he replied. "He" (meaning the other 'prentice) "will see to that. Anyway, it'll be daylight directly." We shoved the lamps up on the sherpoles--two on each side. Then he came
across to me. "Look here, Jessop!" he said, without any hesitation. "You'll have to
jolly well tell the Skipper and the Second Mate all you know about all
this." "How do you mean?" I asked. "Why, that it's something about the ship herself that's the cause of
what's happened," he replied. "If you'd only explained to the Second
Mate when I told you to, this might never have been!" "But I don't _know_," I said. "I may be all wrong. It's only an idea of
mine. I've no proofs--"

"Proofs!" he cut in with. "Proofs! what about tonight? We've had all the
proofs ever I want!" I hesitated before answering him. "So have I, for that matter," I said, at length. "What I mean is, I've
nothing that the Skipper and the Second Mate would consider as proofs. They'd never listen seriously to me." "They'd listen fast enough," he replied. "After what's happened this
watch, they'd listen to anything. Anyway, it's jolly well your duty to
tell them!" "What could they do, anyway?" I said, despondently. "As things are
going, we'll all be dead before another week is over, at this rate." "You tell them," he answered. "That's what you've got to do. If you can
only get them to realise that you're right, they'll be glad to put into
the nearest port, and send us all ashore." I shook my head. "Well, anyway, they'll have to do something," he replied, in answer to
my gesture. "We can't go round the Horn, with the number of men we've
lost. We haven't enough to handle her, if it comes on to blow." "You've forgotten, Tammy," I said. "Even if I could get the Old Man to
believe I'd got at the truth of the matter, he couldn't do anything. Don't you see, if I'm right, we couldn't even see the land, if we made
it. We're like blind men...."

"What on earth do you mean?" he interrupted. "How do you make out we're
like blind men? Of course we could see the land--"

"Wait a minute! wait a minute!" I said. "You don't understand. Didn't I
tell you?" "Tell what?" he asked. "About the ship I spotted," I said. "I thought you knew!" "No," he said. "When?" "Why," I replied. "You know when the Old Man sent me away from the
wheel?" "Yes," he answered. "You mean in the morning watch, day before
yesterday?" "Yes," I said. "Well, don't you know what was the matter?" "No," he replied. "That is, I heard you were snoozing at the wheel, and
the Old Man came up and caught you." "That's all a darned silly yarn!" I said. And then I told him the whole
truth of the affair. After I had done that, I explained my idea about
it, to him. "Now you see what I mean?" I asked. "You mean that this strange atmosphere--or whatever it is--we're in,
would not allow us to see another ship?" he asked, a bit awestruck. "Yes," I said. "But the point I wanted you to see, is that if we can't
see another vessel, even when she's quite close, then, in the same way,
we shouldn't be able to see land. To all intents and purposes we're
blind. Just you think of it! We're out in the middle of the briny, doing
a sort of eternal blind man's hop. The Old Man couldn't put into port,
even if he wanted to. He'd run us bang on shore, without our ever seeing
it." "What are we going to do, then?" he asked, in a despairing sort of way. "Do you mean to say we can't do anything? Surely something can be done! It's terrible!" For perhaps a minute, we walked up and down, in the light from the
different lanterns. Then he spoke again. "We might be run down, then," he said, "and never even see the other
vessel?" "It's possible," I replied.