ld have
welcomed with gratitude an opportunity to exchange into the "Flying
Dutchman." Finally he shoved me into the North Sea (I suppose) and
provided me with a lee-shore with outlying sandbanks--the Dutch coast
presumably. Distance, eight miles. The evidence of such implacable
animosity deprived me of speech for quite half a minute.
"Well," he said--for our pace had been very smart indeed till then.
"I will have to think a little, sir."
"Doesn't look as if there were much time to think," he muttered
sardonically from under his hand.
"No, sir," I said with some warmth. "Not on board a ship I could see.
But so many accidents have happened that I really can't remember what
there's left for me to work with."
Still half averted, and with his eyes concealed, he made unexpectedly a
grunting remark.
"You've done very well."
"Have I the two anchors at the bow, sir?" I asked.
"Yes."
I prepared myself then, as a last hope for the ship, to let them both
go in the most effectual manner, when his infernal system of testing
resourcefulness came into play again.
"But there's only one cable. You've lost the other."
It was exasperating.
"Then I would back them, if I could, and tail the heaviest hawser on
board on the end of the chain before letting go, and if she parted from
that, which is quite likely, I would just do nothing. She would have to
go."
"Nothing more to do, eh?"
"No, sir. I could do no more."
He gave a bitter half-laugh.
"You could always say your prayers."
He got up, stretched himself, and yawned slightly. It was a sallow,
strong, unamiable face. He put me in a surly, bored fashion through the
usual questions as to lights and signals, and I escaped from the room
thankfully--passed! Forty minutes! And again I walked on air along Tower
Hill, where so many good men had lost their heads, because, I suppose,
they were not resourceful enough to save them. And in my heart of hearts
I had no objection to meeting that examiner once more when the third and
last ordeal became due in another year or so. I even hoped I should.
I knew the worst of him now, and forty minutes is not an unreasonable
time. Yes, I distinctly hoped. . .
But not a bit of it. When I presented myself to be examined for Master
the examiner who received me was short, plump, with a round, soft face
in grey, fluffy whiskers, and fresh, loquacious lips.
He commenced operations with an easy-going "Let's see. H'm. Suppose
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