The captain gave a slight start, and the character of his stare changed
to a sort of sinister surprise. Franklin grew very uncomfortable, but
the captain asked negligently: "What makes you think that there's something wrong?"
"I can't say exactly. You don't look quite yourself, sir," Franklin
owned up.
"You seem to have a confoundedly piercing eye," said the captain in such
an aggressive tone that Franklin was moved to defend himself.
"We have been together now over six years, sir, so I suppose I know you a
bit by this time. I could see there was something wrong directly you
came on board."
"Mr. Franklin," said the captain, "we have been more than six years
together, it is true, but I didn't know you for a reader of faces. You
are not a correct reader though. It's very far from being wrong. You
understand? As far from being wrong as it can very well be. It ought to
teach you not to make rash surmises. You should leave that to the shore
people. They are great hands at spying out something wrong. I dare say
they know what they have made of the world. A dam' poor job of it and
that's plain. It's a confoundedly ugly place, Mr. Franklin. You don't
know anything of it? Well--no, we sailors don't. Only now and then one
of us runs against something cruel or underhand, enough to make your hair
stand on end. And when you do see a piece of their wickedness you find
that to set it right is not so easy as it looks . . . Oh! I called you
back to tell you that there will be a lot of workmen, joiners and all
that sent down on board first thing to-morrow morning to start making
alterations in the cabin. You will see to it that they don't loaf. There
isn't much time."
Franklin was impressed by this unexpected lecture upon the wickedness of
the solid world surrounded by the salt, uncorruptible waters on which he
and his captain had dwelt all their lives in happy innocence. What he
could not understand was why it should have been delivered, and what
connection it could have with such a matter as the alterations to be
carried out in the cabin. The work did not seem to him to be called for
in such a hurry. What was the use of altering anything? It was a very
good accommodation, spacious, well-distributed, on a rather old-fashioned
plan, and with its decorations somewhat tarnished. But a dab of varnish,
a touch of gilding here and there, was all that was necessary. As to
comfort, it could not be improved by any alterations. He resented the
notion of change; but he said dutifully that he would keep his eye on the
workmen if the captain would only let him know what was the nature of the
work he had ordered to be done.