expressed his
opinion of me. Then he let go of my arm, and stepped back a couple of
paces.

"I'm not a lunatic!" I said, with a sudden gasp. "I'm not a lunatic,
Sir, any more than you are."

"Why the devil don't you answer my questions then?" he shouted, angrily.
"What's the matter with you? What have you been doing with the ship?
Answer me now!"

"I was looking at that ship away on the starboard quarter, Sir," I
blurted out. "She's been signalling--"

"What!" he cut me short with disbelief. "What ship?"

He turned, quickly, and looked over the quarter. Then he wheeled round
to me again.

"There's no ship! What do you mean by trying to spin up a cuffer like
that?"

"There is, Sir," I answered. "It's out there--" I pointed.

"Hold your tongue!" he said. "Don't talk rubbish to me. Do you think I'm
blind?"

"I saw it, Sir," I persisted.

"Don't you talk back to me!" he snapped, with a quick burst of temper.
"I won't have it!"

Then, just as suddenly, he was silent. He came a step towards me, and
stared into my face. I believe the old ass thought I was a bit mad;
anyway, without another word, he went to the break of the poop.

"Mr. Tulipson," he sung out.

"Yes, Sir," I heard the Second Mate reply.

"Send another man to the wheel."

"Very good, Sir," the Second answered.

A couple of minutes later, old Jaskett came up to relieve me. I gave him
the course, and he repeated it.

"What's up, mate?" he asked me, as I stepped off the grating.

"Nothing much," I said, and went forrard to where the Skipper was
standing on the break of the poop. I gave him the course; but the crabby
old devil took no notice of me, whatever. When I got down on to the
maindeck, I went up to the Second, and gave it to him. He answered me
civilly enough, and then asked me what I had been doing to put the Old
Man's back up.

"I told him there's a ship on the starboard quarter, signalling us," I
said.

"There's no ship out there, Jessop," the Second Mate replied, looking at
me with a queer, inscrutable expression.

"There is, Sir," I began. "I--"

"That will do, Jessop!" he said. "Go forrard and have a smoke. I shall
want you then to give a hand with these foot-ropes. You'd better bring a
serving-mallet aft with you, when you come."

I hesitated a moment, partly in anger; but more, I think, in doubt.

"i, i, Sir," I muttered at length, and went forrard.

VIII

_After the Coming of the Mist_

After the com