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he tried to give a jocular ring to, but could not very successfully. “This youngster Haldane here swears he saw a full-rigged ship on our lee quarter awhile ago, flying a signal of distress; but neither Mr. Spokeshave, who was on the watch, nor myself, could make her out where Haldane said he saw her.”

       “Indeed?”

       “No, sir,” continued Mr. Fosset; “nor could the helmsman or old Greazer here, who came up with the binnacle lamp at the time. Not one of us could see this wonderful ship of Haldane’s, though it was pretty clear all round then, and we all looked in the direction to which he pointed.”

       “That’s strange,” said Captain Applegarth, “very strange.”

       “Quite so, sir, just what we all think, sir,” chimed in Master Spokeshave, putting in his oar. “Not a soul here on the bridge, sir, observed anything of any ship of any sort, leastways one flying a signal of distress, such as Dick Haldane said he saw.”

       “Humph!” ejaculated the skipper, as if turning the matter over in his mind for the moment; and then addressing me point blank he asked me outright, “Do you really believe you saw this ship, Haldane?”

       “Yes, sir,” I answered as directly as he had questioned me; “I’ll swear I did.”

       “No, I don’t want you to do that; I’ll take your word for it without any swearing, Haldane,” said the skipper to this, speaking to me quietly and as kindly as if he had been my father. “But listen to me, my boy. I do not doubt your good faith for a moment, mind that. Still, are you sure that what you believe you saw might not have been some optical illusion proceeding from the effects of the afterglow at sunset? It was very bright and vivid, you know, and the reflection of a passing cloud above the horizon or its shadow just before the sun dipped might have caused that very appearance which you took to be a ship under sail. I have myself been often mistaken in the same way under similar atmospheric surroundings and that is why I put it to you like this, to learn whether you are quite certain you might not be mistaken?”

       “Quite so,” shoved in Spokeshave again in his parrot fashion; “quite so, sir.”

       “I didn’t ask your opinion,” growled the skipper, shutting him up in a twinkling; and then, turning to me again, he looked at me inquiringly. “Well, Haldane, have you thought it out?”

       “Yes, captain, I have,” I replied firmly, though respectfully, the ill-timed interference of the objectionable Mr. Spokeshave having made me as obstinate as Mr. Fosset. “It was no optical illusion or imagination on my part, sir, or anything of that sort, I assure you, sir. I am telling you the truth, sir, and no lie. I saw that ship, sir, to leeward of us just now as clearly as I can see you at this moment; aye, clearer, sir!”

       “Then that settles the matter. I’ve never had occasion to doubt your word before during the years you’ve sailed with me, my boy, and I am not going to doubt it now.”

       So saying, Captain Applegarth, putting his arm on my shoulder, faced round towards the first mate and Spokeshave, as if challenging them both to question my veracity after this testimony on his part in my favour.

       “This ship, you say, Haldane,” then continued the skipper, proceeding to interrogate me as to the facts of the case, now that my credulity had been established, in his sharp, sailor-like way, “was flying a signal of distress, eh?”

       “Yes, sir,” I answered with zest, all animation and excitement again at his encouragement. “She had her flag, the French tricolour, I think, sir, hoisted half-mast at her peak; and she appeared, sir, a good deal battered about, as if she had been in bad weather and had made the worst of it. Besides, cappen—”

       I hesitated.

       “Besides what, my boy?” he asked, on my pausing here, almost afraid to mention the sight I had noticed on the deck of the ill-fated ship in the presence of two such sceptical listeners as Mr. Fosset and my more immediate superior, the third officer, Spokeshave. “You need not be afraid of saying anything you like before me. I’m captain of this ship.”

       “Well, sir,” said I, speaking out, “just before that mass of clouds or fog bank came down on the wind, shutting out the ship from view, she yawed a bit off her course, and I saw somebody on her deck aft.”

       “What!” cried the skipper, interrupting me. “Was she so close as that?”

       “Yes, sir,” said I. “She did not seem to be a hundred yards away at the moment, if that.”

       “And you saw somebody on the deck?”

       “Yes, cap’en,” I answered; “a woman.”

       He again interrupted me, all agog at the news.

       “A woman?”

       “Yes, sir,” said I. “A woman, or rather, perhaps a girl, for she had a lot of long hair streaming over her shoulders, all flying about in the wind.”

       “What was she doing?”

       “She appeared to be waving a white handkerchief or something like that, as if to attract our attention—asking us to help her, like.”

       The skipper drew himself up to his full height on my telling this and turned round on Mr. Fosset, his face blazing with passion.

       “A ship in distress, a woman on board imploring our aid,” he exclaimed in keen, cold, cutting tones that pierced one like a knife, “and you passed her by without rendering any assistance—a foreigner too, of all. We Englishmen, who pride ourselves on our humanity above all other nations. What will they think of us?”

       “I tell you, sir, we could not see any ship at all!” retorted the first mate hotly, in reply to this reproach, which he felt as keenly as it was uttered. “And if we couldn’t see the ship, how could we know there was a woman or anybody aboard?”

       “Quite so,” echoed Spokeshave, emphasising Mr. Fosset’s logical argument in his own defence. “That’s exactly what I say, sir.”

       “I would not have had it happen for worlds. We flying the old Union jack, too, that boasts of never passing either friend or foe when in danger and asking aid.”

       He spoke still more bitterly, as if he had not heard their excuses.

       “But hang it, cap’en,” cried Mr. Fosset, “I tell you—”

       Captain Applegarth waved him aside.

       “Where did you last sight the ship, Haldane?” he said, turning round abruptly to me. “How was she heading?”

       “She bore about two points off our port quarter,” I replied as laconically. “I think, sir, she was running before the wind like ourselves, though steering a little more to the southwards.”

       The skipper looked at the standard compass in front of the wheel-house on the bridge, and then addressed the helmsman.

       “How are we steering now, quartermaster? The same course as I set at noon, eh?”

       “Aye, aye, sir,” replied Atkins, who still stood by the steam steering gear singlehanded. If it had been the ordinary wheel, unaided by steam-power, it would have required four men to move the rudder and keep the vessel steady in such a sea as was now running. “We’ve kept her pretty straight, sir, since eight bells on the same course, west by south, sir, half south.”

       “Very good, quartermaster. Haldane, are you there?”

       “Yes, sir,” said I, stepping up to him again, having moved away into the shadow under the lee of the wheel-house whilst he was speaking to Atkins. “Here I am, sir.”

       “Was that vessel dropping us when we passed her, or were we going ahead of her?”

       “She was running before the wind, sir, at a tangent to our course, and more to the southwards, moving through the water quicker than we were, until she luffed up just before that mist or fog bank shut her out from view. But—”

       “Well?”

      

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