The Ghost Ship | Page 3

bigger personage than he was, with the
exception that is, of his nose, which was thoroughly Napoleonic in size
and contour. Altogether, what with the airs he gave himself and his
selfish disposition and nasty cantankerous temper, Master Spokeshave
was not a general favourite on board, although we did not quarrel
openly with the little beggar or call him by his nickname when he was
present, albeit he was very hard to bear with sometimes!
Well, not thinking of him or his tea or that it was time for me to go on
watch, but awed by the majesty of God's handiwork in the wonderful
colouring, of the afterglow, which no mortal artist could have painted,
no, none but He who limns the rainbow, I stood there so long by the
gangway, gazing at the glorious panorama outspread before me, that I
declare I clean forgot Spokeshave's very existence, all-important

though he considered himself, and I was only recalled to myself by the
voice of Mr Fosset, our first officer, who had approached without my
seeing him, speaking close beside me.
Ah, he was a very different sort of fellow to little Spokeshave, being a
nice, jolly, good-natured chap, chubby and brown-bearded, and liked
by every one from the skipper down to the cabin boy. He was a bit
obstinate, though, was Mr Fosset; and "as pigheaded as a Scotch
barber," as Captain Applegarth would say sometimes when he was
arguing with him, for the first mate would always stick to his own
opinion, no matter if he were right or wrong, nothing said on the other
side ever convincing him to the contrary and making him change his
mind.
He had caught sight of me now leaning against the bulwarks and
looking over the side amidships, just abaft the engine-room hatch, as he
passed along the gangway towards the bridge which he was about to
mount to have a look at the standard compass and see what course the
helmsman was steering, on his way from the poop, where I had noticed
him talking with the skipper as I came up the booby-hatch from below.
"Hullo, Haldane!" he cried, shouting almost in my ear, and giving me a
playful dig in the ribs at the same time; this nearly knocked all the
breath out of my body. "Is that you, my boy?"
"Aye, aye, sir," I replied, hesitating, for I was startled, alike by his
rather too demonstrative greeting as well as his unexpected approach.
"I--I--mean, yes, sir."
Mr Fosset laughed; a jolly, catching laugh it was--that of a man who
had just dined comfortably and enjoyed his dinner, and did not have,
apparently, a care in the world. "Why, what's the matter with you,
youngster?" said he in his chaffing way. "Been having a caulk on the
sly and dreaming of home, I bet?"
"No, sir," I answered gravely; "I've not been to sleep."
"But you look quite dazed, my boy."

I made no reply to this observation, and Mr Fosset then dropped his
bantering manner.
"Tell me," said he kindly, "is there anything wrong with you below?
Has that cross-grained little shrimp, Spokeshave, hang him! been
bullying you again, like he did the other day?"
"Oh no, sir; he's on the bridge now, and I ought to have relieved him
before this," I replied, only thinking of poor "Conky" and his tea then
for the first time. "I wasn't even dreaming of him; I'm sure I beg his
pardon!"
"Well, you were dreaming of some one perhaps `nearer and dearer' than
Spokeshave," rejoined Mr Fosset, with another genial laugh. "You were
quite in a brown study when I gave you that dig in the ribs. What's the
matter, my boy?"
"I was looking at that, sir," said I simply, in response to his question,
pointing upwards to the glory in the heavens. "Isn't it grand? Isn't it
glorious?"
This was a poser; for the first mate, though good-natured and good-
humoured enough, and probably a thinking man, too, in his way, was
too matter-of-fact a person to indulge in "dreamy sentimentalities," as
he would have styled my deeper thoughts! A sunset to him was only a
sunset, saving in so far as it served to denote any change of weather,
which aspect his seaman's eye readily took note of without any pointing
out on my part; so he rather chilled my enthusiasm by his reply now to
me.
"Oh, yes, it's very fine and all that, youngster," he observed in an
off-hand manner that grated on my feelings, making me wish I had not
spoken so gushingly. "I think that sky shows signs of a blow before the
night is over, which will give you something better to do than star-
gazing!"
"I can't very well do that now,