was clear that he couldn't. And sure enough Mr. Burns came on deck
dragging himself painfully aft in his enormous overcoat. I beheld him
with a natural dread. To have him around and raving about the wiles of
a dead man while I had to steer a wildly rushing ship full of dying men
was a rather dreadful prospect.

But his first remarks were quite sensible in meaning and tone.
Apparently he had no recollection of the night scene. And if he had he
didn't betray himself once. Neither did he talk very much. He sat on
the skylight looking desperately ill at first, but that strong breeze,
before which the last remnant of my crew had wilted down, seemed to blow
a fresh stock of vigour into his frame with every gust. One could almost
see the process.

By way of sanity test I alluded on purpose to the late captain. I was
delighted to find that Mr. Burns did not display undue interest in the
subject. He ran over the old tale of that savage ruffian's iniquities
with a certain vindictive gusto and then concluded unexpectedly:

"I do believe, sir, that his brain began to go a year or more before he
died."

A wonderful recovery. I could hardly spare it as much admiration as it
deserved, for I had to give all my mind to the steering.

In comparison with the hopeless languour of the preceding days this was
dizzy speed. Two ridges of foam streamed from the ship's bows; the wind
sang in a strenuous note which under other circumstances would have
expressed to me all the joy of life. Whenever the hauled-up mainsail
started trying to slat and bang itself to pieces in its gear, Mr. Burns
would look at me apprehensively.

"What would you have me to do, Mr. Burns? We can neither furl it nor set
it. I only wish the old thing would thrash itself to pieces and be done
with it. That beastly racket confuses me."

Mr. Burns wrung his hands, and cried out suddenly:

"How will you get the ship into harbour, sir, without men to handle
her?"

And I couldn't tell him.

Well--it did get done about forty hours afterward. By the exorcising
virtue of Mr. Burns' awful laugh, the malicious spectre had been laid,
the evil spell broken, the curse removed. We were now in the hands of a
kind and energetic Providence. It was rushing us on. . . .

I shall never forget the last night, dark, windy, and starry. I steered.
Mr. Burns, after having obtained from me a solemn promise to give him
a kick if anything happened, went frankly to sleep on the deck close