This astonishing occurrence was so present to his mind that he always
felt as though he were there under false pretences. And this feeling was
so uncomfortable that it nerved him to break through the awe-inspiring
aloofness of his captain. He wanted to make a clean breast of it. I
imagine that his youth stood in good stead to Mr. Powell. Oh, yes. Youth
is a power. Even Captain Anthony had to take some notice of it, as if it
refreshed him to see something untouched, unscarred, unhardened by
suffering. Or perhaps the very novelty of that face, on board a ship
where he had seen the same faces for years, attracted his attention.
Whether one day he dropped a word to his new second officer or only
looked at him I don't know; but Mr. Powell seized the opportunity
whatever it was. The captain who had started and stopped in his
everlasting rapid walk smoothed his brow very soon, heard him to the end
and then laughed a little.
"Ah! That's the story. And you felt you must put me right as to this."
"Yes, sir."
"It doesn't matter how you came on board," said Anthony. And then
showing that perhaps he was not so utterly absent from his ship as
Franklin supposed: "That's all right. You seem to be getting on very
well with everybody," he said in his curt hurried tone, as if talking
hurt him, and his eyes already straying over the sea as usual.
"Yes, sir."
Powell tells me that looking then at the strong face to which that
haggard expression was returning, he had the impulse, from some confused
friendly feeling, to add: "I am very happy on board here, sir."
The quickly returning glance, its steadiness, abashed Mr. Powell and made
him even step back a little. The captain looked as though he had
forgotten the meaning of the word.
"You--what? Oh yes . . . You . . . of course . . . Happy. Why not?"
This was merely muttered; and next moment Anthony was off on his headlong
tramp his eyes turned to the sea away from his ship.
A sailor indeed looks generally into the great distances, but in Captain
Anthony's case there was--as Powell expressed it--something particular,
something purposeful like the avoidance of pain or temptation. It was
very marked once one had become aware of it. Before, one felt only a
pronounced strangeness. Not that the captain--Powell was careful to
explain--didn't see things as a ship-master should. The proof of it was
that on that very occasion he desired him suddenly after a period of
silent pacing, to have all the staysails sheets eased off, and he was
going on with some other remarks on the subject of these staysails when
Mrs. Anthony followed by her father emerged from the companion. She
established herself in her chair to leeward of the skylight as usual.
Thereupon the captain cut short whatever he was going to say, and in a
little while went down below.