He walks about his ship like a ghost.
He's fading away right before our eyes. But of course you don't see.
You don't care a hang. Why should you?"

Mr Powell did not wait for more. He went down on the main deck.
Without taking the mate's jeremiads seriously he put them beside the
words of Mr Smith. He had grown already attached to Captain Anthony.
There was something not only attractive but compelling in the man. Only
it is very difficult for youth to believe in the menace of death. Not
in the fact itself, but in its proximity to a breathing, moving,
talking, superior human being, showing no sign of disease. And Mr
Powell thought that this talk was all nonsense. But his curiosity was
awakened. There was something, and at any time some circumstance might
occur ... No, he would never find out ... There was nothing to find
out, most likely. Mr Powell went to his room where he tried to read a
book he had already read a good many times. Presently a bell rang for
the officers' supper.

PART TWO, CHAPTER 6.

A MOONLESS NIGHT, THICK WITH STARS ABOVE, VERY DARK ON THE WATER.

In the mess-room Powell found Mr Franklin hacking at a piece of cold
salt beef with a table knife. The mate, fiery in the face and rolling
his eyes over that task, explained that the carver belonging to the
mess-room could not be found. The steward, present also, complained
savagely of the cook. The fellow got things into his galley and then
lost them. Mr Franklin tried to pacify him with mournful firmness.

"There, there! That will do. We who have been all these years together
in the ship have other things to think about than quarrelling among
ourselves."

Mr Powell thought with exasperation: "Here he goes again," for this
utterance had nothing cryptic for him. The steward having withdrawn
morosely, he was not surprised to hear the mate strike the usual note.
That morning the mizzen topsail-tie had carried away (probably a
defective link) and something like forty feet of chain and wire-rope,
mixed up with a few heavy iron blocks, had crashed down from aloft on
the poop with a terrifying racket.

"Did you notice the captain then, Mr Powell. Did you notice?"

Powell confessed frankly that he was too scared himself when all that
lot of gear came down on deck to notice anything.

"The gin-block missed his head by an inch," went on the mate
impressively. "I wasn't three feet from him. And what did he do? Did
he shout, or