"that Jarette's got ears such as no
man before ever had. I've often thought it isn't hearing he has, but a
kind of knowing."

"Oh, he's knowing enough!" I said, laughing.

"I don't mean that, Mr Dale," he whispered. "I mean there's something
uncanny about him, as the Scotch people say, and he can tell what you
are thinking about without your saying it."

"Oh, nonsense!"

"It arn't nonsense, sir, and there's more about him than you think for.
Why, he can do anything with the men. They're not only afraid of him,
but they're obliged to do what he wants, and if I was Mr Brymer, sir, I
shouldn't rest till he was put in a boat and sent off to shift for
himself."

"You think he's dangerous then?"

"Ah, that he is, sir; and if he isn't hatching out something row to
surprise you all, I don't know mutton from beef."

I looked sharply at the cook, for his words chimed in with a kind of
fancy I had that the people in the forecastle were not so silent for
nothing.

"Ah, well," I said, "I dare say we shall be ready for him if he does try
to play any pranks. But you didn't tell me about Mr Walters."

The cook gave a sharp glance round.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I don't seem to like to talk about him, sir," he whispered. "He never
forgets anything, and never forgives anybody. I wouldn't say a word
against him for worlds."

"I don't ask you to," I said; "I only asked you why Mr Walters was shut
up in the cable-tier?"

"Jarette don't like him, sir. He found him very useful for stealing
pistols and cartridges, and fastening people in the cabins, but once he
got all he wanted, though he made a fuss with him and encouraged him to
strut about, and called him his lieutenant, he used to be always looking
at him ugly-like, and I got to think that before long there would be a
row."

"And there was?"

"Oh yes, sir, a terrible row. You see Mr Walters couldn't forget that
he had been an officer, and Jarette couldn't forget he had been a
fore-mast man, and feel jealous of Mr Walters, who used to make-believe
amongst the men that he was the real captain of the ship, and that
everything depended upon him. So at last there was a terrible row about
something in the navigation, and Mr Walters told Jarette that he didn't
know anything about it. Then the Frenchman hit him, kind of boxed his
ears, and Mr Walters whips out a pistol. That was enough. Jarette
whistled up the men, who none of 'em liked Mr Walters, and b