Chance - Page 186/275

Mr. Powell, though moved to a certain extent, was by no means carried

away. And just as he thought that it was all over, the other, fidgeting

in the darkness, was heard again explosive, bewildered but not very loud

in the silence of the ship and the great empty peace of the sea.

"They have done something to him! What is it? What can it be? Can't

you guess? Don't you know?"

"Good heavens!" Young Powell was astounded on discovering that this was

an appeal addressed to him. "How on earth can I know?"

"You do talk to that white-faced, black-eyed . . . I've seen you talking

to her more than a dozen times."

Young Powell, his sympathy suddenly chilled, remarked in a disdainful

tone that Mrs. Anthony's eyes were not black.

"I wish to God she had never set them on the captain, whatever colour

they are," retorted Franklin. "She and that old chap with the scraped

jaws who sits over her and stares down at her dead-white face with his

yellow eyes--confound them! Perhaps you will tell us that his eyes are

not yellow?"

Powell, not interested in the colour of Mr. Smith's eyes, made a vague

gesture. Yellow or not yellow, it was all one to him.

The mate murmured to himself. "No. He can't know. No! No more than a

baby. It would take an older head."

"I don't even understand what you mean," observed Mr. Powell coldly.

"And even the best head would be puzzled by such devil-work," the mate

continued, muttering. "Well, I have heard tell of women doing for a man

in one way or another when they got him fairly ashore. But to bring

their devilry to sea and fasten on such a man! . . . It's something I

can't understand. But I can watch. Let them look out--I say!"

His short figure, unable to stoop, without flexibility, could not express

dejection. He was very tired suddenly; he dragged his feet going off the

poop. Before he left it with nearly an hour of his watch below

sacrificed, he addressed himself once more to our young man who stood

abreast of the mizzen rigging in an unreceptive mood expressed by silence

and immobility. He did not regret, he said, having spoken openly on this

very serious matter.

"I don't know about its seriousness, sir," was Mr. Powell's frank answer.

"But if you think you have been telling me something very new you are

mistaken. You can't keep that matter out of your speeches. It's the

sort of thing I've been hearing more or less ever since I came on board."