k missed his head by an inch," went on the mate
impressively. "I wasn't three feet from him. And what did he do? Did
he shout, or jump, or even look aloft to see if the yard wasn't coming
down too about our ears in a dozen pieces? It's a marvel it didn't. No,
he just stopped short--no wonder; he must have felt the wind of that iron
gin-block on his face--looked down at it, there, lying close to his
foot--and went on again. I believe he didn't even blink. It isn't
natural. The man is stupefied."
He sighed ridiculously and Mr. Powell had suppressed a grin, when the
mate added as if he couldn't contain himself:
"He will be taking to drink next. Mark my words. That's the next
thing."
Mr. Powell was disgusted.
"You are so fond of the captain and yet you don't seem to care what you
say about him. I haven't been with him for seven years, but I know he
isn't the sort of man that takes to drink. And then--why the devil
should he?"
"Why the devil, you ask. Devil--eh? Well, no man is safe from the
devil--and that's answer enough for you," wheezed Mr. Franklin not
unkindly. "There was a time, a long time ago, when I nearly took to
drink myself. What do you say to that?"
Mr. Powell expressed a polite incredulity. The thick, congested mate
seemed on the point of bursting with despondency. "That was bad example
though. I was young and fell into dangerous company, made a fool of
myself--yes, as true as you see me sitting here. Drank to forget.
Thought it a great dodge."
Powell looked at the grotesque Franklin with awakened interest and with
that half-amused sympathy with which we receive unprovoked confidences
from men with whom we have no sort of affinity. And at the same time he
began to look upon him more seriously. Experience has its prestige. And
the mate continued:
"If it hadn't been for the old lady, I would have gone to the devil. I
remembered her in time. Nothing like having an old lady to look after to
steady a chap and make him face things. But as bad luck would have it,
Captain Anthony has no mother living, not a blessed soul belonging to him
as far as I know. Oh, aye, I fancy he said once something to me of a
sister. But she's married. She don't need him. Yes. In the old days
he used to talk to me as if we had been brothers," exaggerated the mate
sentimentally. "'Franklin,'--he would say--'this ship is my nearest
relation and she isn't likely to turn against me. And I supp
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