of familiar things. He
doubted his eyes too. He must have dreamt it all! "I am dreaming now,"
he said to himself. And very likely for a few seconds he must have
looked like a man in a trance or profoundly asleep on his feet, and with
a glass of brandy-and-water in his hand.

What woke him up and, at the same time, fixed his feet immovably to the
spot, was a voice asking him what he was doing there in tones of
thunder. Or so it sounded to his ears. Anthony, opening the door of
his stern-cabin had naturally exclaimed. What else could you expect?
And the exclamation must have been fairly loud if you consider the
nature of the sight which met his eye. There, before him, stood his
second officer, a seemingly decent, well-bred young man, who, being on
duty, had left the deck and had sneaked into the saloon, apparently for
the inexpressibly mean purpose of drinking up what was left of his
captain's brandy-and-water. There he was, caught absolutely with the
glass in his hand.

But the very monstrosity of appearances silenced Anthony after the first
exclamation; and young Powell felt himself pierced through and through
by the overshadowed glance of his captain. Anthony advanced quietly.
The first impulse of Mr Powell, when discovered, had been to dash the
glass on the deck. He was in a sort of panic. But deep down within him
his wits were working, and the idea that if he did that he could prove
nothing and that the story he had to tell was completely incredible,
restrained him. The captain came forward slowly. With his eyes now
close to his, Powell, spell-bound, numb all over, managed to lift one
finger to the deck above mumbling the explanatory words, "Boatswain on
the poop."

The captain moved his head slightly as much as to say, "That's all
right"--and this was all. Powell had no voice, no strength. The air
was unbreathable, thick, sticky, odious, like hot jelly in which all
movements became difficult. He raised the glass a little with immense
difficulty and moved his trammelled lips sufficiently to form the words:

"Doctored."

Anthony glanced at it for an instant, only for an instant, and again
fastened his eyes on the face of his second mate. Powell added a
fervent "I believe" and put the glass down on the tray. The captain's
glance followed the movement and returned sternly to his face. The
young man pointed a finger once more upwards and squeezed out of his
iron-bound throat six consecutive word