The Captain of the Polestar | Page 4

my fortune? If it came on to blow
from the north to-morrow we could fill the ship and be away before the
frost could catch us. If it came on to blow from the south--well, I
suppose the men are paid for risking their lives, and as for myself it
matters but little to me, for I have more to bind me to the other world
than to this one. I confess that I am sorry for you, though. I wish I had
old Angus Tait who was with me last voyage, for he was a man that
would never be missed, and you--you said once that you were engaged,
did you not?"
[1] A whale is measured among whalers not by the length of its body,
but by the length of its whalebone.
"Yes," I answered, snapping the spring of the locket which hung from
my watch-chain, and holding up the little vignette of Flora.
"Curse you!" he yelled, springing out of his seat, with his very beard
bristling with passion. "What is your happiness to me? What have I to
do with her that you must dangle her photograph before my eyes?" I
almost thought that he was about to strike me in the frenzy of his rage,
but with another imprecation he dashed open the door of the cabin and

rushed out upon deck, leaving me considerably astonished at his
extraordinary violence. It is the first time that he has ever shown me
anything but courtesy and kindness. I can hear him pacing excitedly up
and down overhead as I write these lines.
I should like to give a sketch of the character of this man, but it seems
presumptuous to attempt such a thing upon paper, when the idea in my
own mind is at best a vague and uncertain one. Several times I have
thought that I grasped the clue which might explain it, but only to be
disappointed by his presenting himself in some new light which would
upset all my conclusions. It may be that no human eye but my own
shall ever rest upon these lines, yet as a psychological study I shall
attempt to leave some record of Captain Nicholas Craigie.
A man's outer case generally gives some indication of the soul within.
The Captain is tall and well-formed, with dark, handsome face, and a
curious way of twitching his limbs, which may arise from nervousness,
or be simply an outcome of his excessive energy. His jaw and whole
cast of countenance is manly and resolute, but the eyes are the
distinctive feature of his face. They are of the very darkest hazel, bright
and eager, with a singular mixture of recklessness in their expression,
and of something else which I have sometimes thought was more allied
with horror than any other emotion. Generally the former predominated,
but on occasions, and more particularly when he was thoughtfully
inclined, the look of fear would spread and deepen until it imparted a
new character to his whole countenance. It is at these times that he is
most subject to tempestuous fits of anger, and he seems to be aware of
it, for I have known him lock himself up so that no one might approach
him until his dark hour was passed. He sleeps badly, and I have heard
him shouting during the night, but his cabin is some little distance from
mine, and I could never distinguish the words which he said.
This is one phase of his character, and the most disagreeable one. It is
only through my close association with him, thrown together as we are
day after day, that I have observed it. Otherwise he is an agreeable
companion, well-read and entertaining, and as gallant a seaman as ever
trod a deck. I shall not easily forget the way in which he handled the

ship when we were caught by a gale among the loose ice at the
beginning of April. I have never seen him so cheerful, and even
hilarious, as he was that night, as he paced backwards and forwards
upon the bridge amid the flashing of the lightning and the howling of
the wind. He has told me several times that the thought of death was a
pleasant one to him, which is a sad thing for a young man to say; he
cannot be much more than thirty, though his hair and moustache are
already slightly grizzled. Some great sorrow must have overtaken him
and blighted his whole life. Perhaps I should be the same if I lost my
Flora-- God knows! I think if it were not for her that I should care very
little whether the wind blew from the north or the south to-morrow.
There, I hear him come down the companion, and he