Chapter1
Iscarcelyknowwheretobegin，thoughIsometimesfacetiouslyplacethecauseofitalltoCharleyFuruseth’scredit。HekeptasummercottageinMillValley，undertheshadowofMountTamalpais，andneveroccupieditexceptwhenheloafedthroughthewintermonthsandreadNietzscheandSchopenhauertoresthisbrain。Whensummercameon，heelectedtosweatoutahotanddustyexistenceinthecityandtotoilincessantly。HaditnotbeenmycustomtorunuptoseehimeverySaturdayafternoonandtostopovertillMondaymorning，thisparticularJanuaryMondaymorningwouldnothavefoundmeafloatonSanFranciscoBay。
NotbutthatIwasafloatinasafecraft，fortheMartinezwasanewferry—steamer，makingherfourthorfifthtripontherunbetweenSausalitoandSanFrancisco。Thedangerlayintheheavyfogwhichblanketedthebay，andofwhich，asalandsman，Ihadlittleapprehension。Infact，Iremembertheplacidexaltationwithwhichtookupmypositionontheforwardupperdeck，directlybeneaththepilot—house，andallowedthemysteryofthefogtolayholdofmyimagination。Afreshbreezewasblowing，andforatimeIwasaloneinthemoistobscurity；yetnotalone，forIwasdimlyconsciousofthepresenceofthepilot，andofwhatItooktobethecaptain，intheglasshouseabovemyhead。
Irememberthinkinghowcomfortableitwas，thisdivisionoflaborwhichmadeitunnecessaryformetostudyfogs，winds，tides，andnavigation，inordertovisitmyfriendwholivedacrossanarmofthesea。Itwasgoodthatmenshouldbespecialists，Imused。ThepeculiarknowledgeofthepilotandcaptainsufficedformanythousandsofpeoplewhoknewnomoreoftheseaandnavigationthanIknew。Ontheotherhand，insteadofhavingtodevotemyenergytothelearningofamultitudeofthings，Iconcentratedituponafewparticularthings，suchas，forinstance，theanalysisofPoe’splaceinAmericanliterature，anessayofmine，bytheway，inthecurrentAtlantic。Comingaboard，asIpassedthroughthecabin，IhadnoticedwithgreedyeyesastoutgentlemanreadingtheAtlantic，whichwasopenatmyveryessay。Andthereitwasagain，thedivisionoflabor，thespecialknowledgeofthepilotandcaptainwhichpermittedthestoutgentlemantoreadmyspecialknowledgeonPoewhiletheycarriedhimsafelyfromSausalitotoSanFrancisco。
Ared—facedman，slammingthecabindoorbehindhimandstumpingoutonthedeck，interruptedmyreflections，thoughImadeamentalnoteofthetopicforuseinaprojectedessaywhichIhadthoughtofcalling"TheNecessityforFreedom：APleafortheArtist。"Thered—facedmanshotaglanceupatthepilot—house，gazedaroundatthefog，stumpedacrossthedeckandback（heevidentlyhadartificiallegs），andstoodstillbymyside，legswideapart，andwithanexpressionofkeenenjoymentonhisface。Iwasnotwrongwhendecidedthathisdayshadbeenspentonthesea。
"It’snastyweatherlikethisherethatturnsheadsgraybeforetheirtime，"hesaid，withanodtowardthepilot—house。
"Ihadnotthoughttherewasanyparticularstrain，"answered。"ItseemsassimpleasA，B，C。Theyknowthedirectionbycompass，thedistance，andthespeed。Ishouldnotcallitanythingmorethanmathematicalcertainty。"
"Strain！"hesnorted。"SimpleasA，B，C！Mathematicalcertainty！"
Heseemedtobracehimselfupandleanbackwardagainsttheairashestaredatme。"Howaboutthisheretidethat’srushin’outthroughtheGoldenGate？"hedemanded，orbellowed，rather。"Howfastissheebbin’？
What’sthedrift，eh？Listentothat，willyou？Abell—buoy，andwe’rea—topofit！See’emalterin’thecourse！"
Fromoutofthefogcamethemournfultollingofabell，andcouldseethepilotturningthewheelwithgreatrapidity。Thebell，whichhadseemedstraightahead，wasnowsoundingfromtheside。Ourownwhistlewasblowinghoarsely，andfromtimetotimethesoundofotherwhistlescametousfromoutofthefog。
"That’saferry—boatofsomesort，"thenewcomersaid，indicatingawhistleofftotheright。"Andthere！D’yehearthat？Blownbymouth。Somescowschooner，mostlikely。Betterwatchout，Mr。Schooner—man。Ah，Ithoughtso。Nowhell’sa—poppin’forsomebody！"
Theunseenferry—boatwasblowingblastafterblast，andthemouth—blownhornwastootinginterror—strickenfashion。
"Andnowthey’repayin’theirrespectstoeachotherandtryin’togetclear，"thered—facedmanwenton，asthehurriedwhistlingceased。
Hisfacewasshining，hiseyesflashingwithexcitement，ashetranslatedintoarticulatelanguagethespeechofthehornsandsirens。"That’sasteamsirena—goin’itovertheretotheleft。Andyouhearthatfellowwithafroginhisthroat——asteamschoonerasnearascanjudge，crawlin’
infromtheHeadsagainstthetide。"
Ashrilllittlewhistle，pipingasifgonemad，camefromdirectlyaheadandfromverynearathand。GongssoundedontheMartinez。Ourpaddle—wheelsstopped，theirpulsingbeatdiedaway，andthentheystartedagain。Theshrilllittlewhistle，likethechirpingofacricketamidthecriesofgreatbeasts，shotthroughthefogfrommoretothesideandswiftlygrewfaintandfainter。Ilookedtomycompanionforenlightenment。
"Oneofthemdare—devillaunches，"hesaid。"Ialmostwishwe’dsunkhim，thelittlerip！They’rethecauseofmoretrouble。Andwhatgoodarethey？Anyjackassgetsaboardoneandrunsitfromhelltobreakfast，blowin’
hiswhistletobeatthebandandtellin’therestoftheworldtolookoutforhim，becausehe’scomin’andcan’tlookoutforhimself！Becausehe’scomin’！Andyou’vegottolookout，too！Rightofway！Commondecency！
Theydon’tknowthemeanin’ofit！"
Ifeltquiteamusedathisunwarrantedcholer，andwhilehestumpedindignantlyupanddownIfelltodwellingupontheromanceofthefog。
Andromanticitcertainlywas——thefog，likethegrayshadowofinfinitemystery，broodingoverthewhirlingspeckofearth；andmen，meremotesoflightandsparkle，cursedwithaninsanerelishforwork，ridingtheirsteedsofwoodandsteelthroughtheheartofthemystery，gropingtheirwayblindlythroughtheUnseen，andclamoringandclanginginconfidentspeechthewhiletheirheartsareheavywithincertitudeandfear。
Thevoiceofmycompanionbroughtmebacktomyselfwithalaugh。I
toohadbeengropingandfloundering，thewhileIthoughtrodeclear—eyedthroughthemystery。
"Hello；somebodycomin’ourway，"hewassaying。"Andd’yehearthat？
He’scomin’fast。Walkingrightalong。Guesshedon’thearusyet。Wind’sinwrongdirection。"
Thefreshbreezewasblowingrightdownuponus，andIcouldhearthewhistleplainly，offtoonesideandalittleahead。
"Ferry—boat？"Iasked。
Henodded，thenadded，"Orhewouldn’tbekeepin’upsuchaclip。"Hegaveashortchuckle。"They’regettin’anxiousupthere。"
Iglancedup。Thecaptainhadthrusthisheadandshouldersoutofthepilot—house，andwasstaringintentlyintothefogasthoughbysheerforceofwillhecouldpenetrateit。Hisfacewasanxious，aswasthefaceofmycompanion，whohadstumpedovertotherailandwasgazingwithalikeintentnessinthedirectionoftheinvisibledanger。
Theneverythinghappened，andwithinconceivablerapidity。Thefogseemedtobreakawayasthoughsplitbyawedge，andthebowofasteamboatemerged，trailingfog—wreathsoneithersidelikeseaweedonthesnoutofLeviathan。
Icouldseethepilot—houseandawhite—beardedmanleaningpartlyoutofit，onhiselbows。Hewascladinablueuniform，andIremembernotinghowtrimandquiethewas。Hisquietness，underthecircumstances，wasterrible。HeacceptedDestiny，marchedhandinhandwithit，andcoollymeasuredthestroke。Asheleanedthere，heranacalmandspeculativeeyeoverus，asthoughtodeterminetheprecisepointofthecollision，andtooknonoticewhateverwhenourpilot，whitewithrage，shouted，"Nowyou’vedoneit！"
Onlookingback，Irealizethattheremarkwastooobvioustomakerejoindernecessary。
"Grabholdofsomethingandhangon，"thered—facedmansaidtome。
Allhisblusterhadgone，andheseemedtohavecaughtthecontagionofpreternaturalcalm。"Andlistentothewomenscream，"hesaidgrimly，almostbitterly，Ithought，asthoughhehadbeenthroughtheexperiencebefore。
ThevesselscametogetherbeforeIcouldfollowhisadvice。Wemusthavebeenstrucksquarelyamidships，forIsawnothing，thestrangesteamboathavingpassedbeyondmylineofvision。TheMartinezheeledover，sharply，andtherewasacrashingandrendingoftimber。Iwasthrownflatonthewetdeck，andbeforeIcouldscrambletomyfeetIheardthescreamofthewomen。Thisitwas，Iamcertain，——themostindescribableofblood—curdlingsounds，——thatthrewmeintoapanic。Irememberedthelife—preserversstoredinthecabin，butwasmetatthedoorandsweptbackwardbyawildrushofmenandwomen。WhathappenedinthenextfewminutesIdonotrecollect，thoughIhaveaclearremembranceofpullingdownlife—preserversfromtheoverheadracks，whilethered—facedmanfastenedthemaboutthebodiesofanhystericalgroupofwomen。ThismemoryisasdistinctandsharpasthatofanypictureIhaveseen。Itisapicture，andIcanseeitnow，——thejaggededgesoftheholeinthesideofthecabin，throughwhichthegrayfogswirledandeddied；theemptyupholsteredseats，litteredwithalltheevidencesofsuddenflight，suchaspackages，handsatchels，umbrellas，andwraps；thestoutgentlemanwhohadbeenreadingmyessay，encasedincorkandcanvas，themagazinestillinhishand，andaskingmewithmonotonousinsistenceifIthoughttherewasanydanger；thered—facedman，stumpinggallantlyaroundonhisartificiallegsandbucklinglife—preserversonallcomers；andfinally，thescreamingbedlamofwomen。
Thisitwas，thescreamingofthewomen，thatmosttriedmynerves。
Itmusthavetried，too，thenervesofthered—facedman，forhaveanotherpicturewhichwillneverfadefrommymind。Thestoutgentlemanisstuffingthemagazineintohisovercoatpocketandlookingoncuriously。Atangledmassofwomen，withdrawn，whitefacesandopenmouths，isshriekinglikeachorusoflostsouls；andthered—facedman，hisfacenowpurplishwithwrath，andwitharmsextendedoverheadasintheactofhurlingthunderbolts，isshouting，"Shutup！Oh，shutup！"
Irememberthesceneimpelledmetosuddenlaughter，andinthenextinstantIrealizedIwasbecominghystericalmyself；forthesewerewomenofmyownkind，likemymotherandsisters，withthefearofdeathuponthemandunwillingtodie。AndIrememberthatthesoundstheymaderemindedmeofthesquealingofpigsundertheknifeofthebutcher，andIwasstruckwithhorroratthevividnessoftheanalogy。Thesewomen，capableofthemostsublimeemotions，ofthetenderestsympathies，wereopen—mouthedandscreaming。Theywantedtolive，theywerehelpless，likeratsinatrap，andtheyscreamed。
Thehorrorofitdrovemeoutondeck。Iwasfeelingsickandsqueamish，andsatdownonabench。InahazywayIsawandheardmenrushingandshoutingastheystrovetolowertheboats。ItwasjustasIhadreaddescriptionsofsuchscenesinbooks。Thetacklesjammed。Nothingworked。Oneboatloweredawaywiththeplugsout，filledwithwomenandchildrenandthenwithwater，andcapsized。Anotherboathadbeenloweredbyoneend，andstillhunginthetacklebytheotherend，whereithadbeenabandoned。Nothingwastobeseenofthestrangesteamboatwhichhadcausedthedisaster，thoughIheardmensayingthatshewouldundoubtedlysendboatstoourassistance。
Idescendedtothelowerdeck。TheMartinezwassinkingfast，forthewaterwasverynear。Numbersofthepassengerswereleapingoverboard。
Others，inthewater，wereclamoringtobetakenaboardagain。Nooneheededthem。Acryarosethatweweresinking。wasseizedbytheconsequentpanic，andwentoverthesideinasurgeofbodies。HowIwentoverIdonotknow，thoughIdidknow，andinstantly，whythoseinthewaterweresodesirousofgettingbackonthesteamer。Thewaterwascold——socoldthatitwaspainful。Thepang，asIplungedintoit，wasasquickandsharpasthatoffire。Itbittothemarrow。Itwaslikethegripofdeath。Igaspedwiththeanguishandshockofit，fillingmylungsbeforethelife—preserverpoppedmetothesurface。Thetasteofthesaltwasstronginmymouth，andIwasstranglingwiththeacridstuffinmythroatandlungs。
Butitwasthecoldthatwasmostdistressing。Ifeltthatcouldsurvivebutafewminutes。Peoplewerestrugglingandflounderinginthewateraboutme。Icouldhearthemcryingouttooneanother。AndIheard，also，thesoundofoars。Evidentlythestrangesteamboathadlowereditsboats。
AsthetimewentbyImarvelledthatIwasstillalive。Ihadnosensationwhateverinmylowerlimbs，whileachillingnumbnesswaswrappingaboutmyheartandcreepingintoit。Smallwaves，withspitefulfoamingcrests，continuallybrokeovermeandintomymouth，sendingmeoffintomorestranglingparoxysms。
Thenoisesgrewindistinct，thoughIheardafinalanddespairingchorusofscreamsinthedistanceandknewthattheMartinezhadgonedown。
Later，——howmuchlaterIhavenoknowledge，——Icametomyselfwithastartoffear。Iwasalone。Icouldhearnocallsorcries——onlythesoundofthewaves，madeweirdlyhollowandreverberantbythefog。Apanicinacrowd，whichpartakesofasortofcommunityofinterest，isnotsoterribleasapanicwhenoneisbyoneself；andsuchapanicInowsuffered。
WhitherwasIdrifting？Thered—facedmanhadsaidthatthetidewasebbingthroughtheGoldenGate。WasI，then，beingcarriedouttosea？Andthelife—preserverinwhichIfloated？Wasitnotliabletogotopiecesatanymoment？Ihadheardofsuchthingsbeingmadeofpaperandhollowrusheswhichquicklybecamesaturatedandlostallbuoyancy。AndIcouldnotswimastroke。AndIwasalone，floating，apparently，inthemidstofagrayprimordialvastness。Iconfessthatamadnessseizedme，thatIshriekedaloudasthewomenhadshrieked，andbeatthewaterwithmynumbhands。
HowlongthislastedIhavenoconception，forablanknessintervened，ofwhichIremembernomorethanoneremembersoftroubledandpainfulsleep。WhenIaroused，itwasasaftercenturiesoftime；andIsaw，almostabovemeandemergingfromthefog，thebowofavessel，andthreetriangularsails，eachshrewdlylappingtheotherandfilledwithwind。Wherethebowcutthewatertherewasagreatfoamingandgurgling，andIseemeddirectlyinitspath。Itriedtocryout，butwastooexhausted。Thebowplungeddown，justmissingmeandsendingaswashofwaterclearovermyhead。Thenthelong，blacksideofthevesselbeganslippingpast，sonearthatIcouldhavetoucheditwithmyhands。Itriedtoreachit，inamadresolvetoclawintothewoodwithmynails，butmyarmswereheavyandlifeless。AgainIstrovetocallout，butmadenosound。
Thesternofthevesselshotby，dropping，asitdidso，intoahollowbetweenthewaves；andIcaughtaglimpseofamanstandingatthewheel，andofanothermanwhoseemedtobedoinglittleelsethansmokeacigar。
Isawthesmokeissuingfromhislipsasheslowlyturnedhisheadandglancedoutoverthewaterinmydirection。Itwasacareless，unpremeditatedglance，oneofthosehaphazardthingsmendowhentheyhavenoimmediatecalltodoanythinginparticular，butactbecausetheyarealiveandmustdosomething。
Butlifeanddeathwereinthatglance。Icouldseethevesselbeingswallowedupinthefog；Isawthebackofthemanatthewheel，andtheheadoftheothermanturning，slowlyturning，ashisgazestruckthewaterandcasuallyliftedalongittowardme。Hisfaceworeanabsentexpression，asofdeepthought，andIbecameafraidthatifhiseyesdidlightuponmehewouldneverthelessnotseeme。Buthiseyesdidlightuponme，andlookedsquarelyintomine；andhedidseeme，forhesprangtothewheel，thrustingtheothermanaside，andwhirleditroundandround，handoverhand，atthesametimeshoutingordersofsomesort。Thevesselseemedtogooffatatangenttoitsformercourseandleaptalmostinstantlyfromviewintothefog。
Ifeltmyselfslippingintounconsciousness，andtriedwithallthepowerofmywilltofightabovethesuffocatingblanknessanddarknessthatwasrisingaroundme。AlittlelaterIheardthestrokeofoars，growingnearerandnearer，andthecallsofaman。WhenhewasverynearIheardhimcrying，invexedfashion，"Whyinhelldon’tyousingout？"Thismeantme，Ithought，andthentheblanknessanddarknessroseoverme。TheSeaWolf：Chapter2CHAPTER2
Iseemedswinginginamightyrhythmthroughorbitvastness。Sparklingpointsoflightsplutteredandshotpastme。Theywerestars，Iknew，andflaringcomets，thatpeopledmyflightamongthesuns。Asreachedthelimitofmyswingandpreparedtorushbackonthecounterswing，agreatgongstruckandthundered。Foranimmeasurableperiod，lappedintheripplingofplacidcenturies，Ienjoyedandponderedmytremendousflight。
Butachangecameoverthefaceofthedream，foradreamtoldmyselfitmustbe。Myrhythmgrewshorterandshorter。Iwasjerkedfromswingtocounterswingwithirritatinghaste。Icouldscarcelycatchmybreath，sofiercelywasIimpelledthroughtheheavens。Thegongthunderedmorefrequentlyandmorefuriously。Igrewtoawaititwithanamelessdread。
ThenitseemedasthoughIwerebeingdraggedoverraspingsands，whiteandhotinthesun。Thisgaveplacetoasenseofintolerableanguish。
Myskinwasscorchinginthetormentoffire。Thegongclangedandknelled。
Thesparklingpointsoflightflashedpastmeinaninterminablestream，asthoughthewholesiderealsystemweredroppingintothevoid。Igasped，caughtmybreathpainfully，andopenedmyeyes。Twomenwerekneelingbesideme，workingoverme。Mymightyrhythmwastheliftandforwardplungeofashiponthesea。Theterrificgongwasafrying—pan，hangingonthewall，thatrattledandclatteredwitheachleapoftheship。Therasping，scorchingsandswereaman’shardhandschafingmynakedchest。squirmedunderthepainofit，andhalfliftedmyhead。Mychestwasrawandred，andIcouldseetinybloodglobulesstartingthroughthetornandinflamedcuticle。
"That’lldo，Yonson，"oneofthemensaid。"Carn’tyerseeyou’vebloomin’
wellrubbedallthegent’sskinorf？"
ThemanaddressedasYonson，amanoftheheavyScandinaviantype，ceasedchafingme，andaroseawkwardlytohisfeet。ThemanwhohadspokentohimwasclearlyaCockney，withthecleanlinesandweaklypretty，almosteffeminate，faceofthemanwhohasabsorbedthesoundofBowBellswithhismother’smilk。Adraggledmuslincaponhisheadandadirtygunny—sackabouthisslimhipsproclaimedhimcookofthedecidedlydirtyship’sgalleyinwhichIfoundmyself。
"An’’owyerfeelin’now，sir？"heasked，withthesubservientsmirkwhichcomesonlyofgenerationsoftip—seekingancestors。
Forreply，Itwistedweaklyintoasittingposture，andwashelpedbyYonsontomyfeet。Therattleandbangofthefrying—panwasgratinghorriblyonmynerves。Icouldnotcollectmythoughts。Clutchingthewoodworkofthegalleyforsupport，——andIconfessthegreasewithwhichitwasscummedputmyteethonedge，——Ireachedacrossahotcooking—rangetotheoffendingutensil，unhookedit，andwedgeditsecurelyintothecoal—box。
Thecookgrinnedatmyexhibitionofnerves，andthrustintomyhandasteamingmugwithan"’Ere，this’lldoyergood。"Itwasanauseousmess，——ship’scoffee，——buttheheatofitwasrevivifying。BetweengulpsofthemoltenstuffIglanceddownatmyrawandbleedingchestandturnedtotheScandinavian。
"Thankyou，Mr。Yonson，"Isaid；"butdon’tyouthinkyourmeasureswereratherheroic？"
Itwasbecauseheunderstoodthereproofofmyaction，ratherthanofmywords，thathehelduphispalmforinspection。Itwasremarkablycalloused。
Ipassedmyhandoverthehornyprojections，andmyteethwentonedgeoncemorefromthehorribleraspingsensationproduced。
"MynameisJohnson，notYonson，"hesaid，inverygood，thoughslow，English，withnomorethanashadeofaccenttoit。
Therewasmildprotestinhispaleblueeyes，andwithalatimidfranknessandmanlinessthatquitewonmetohim。
"Thankyou，Mr。Johnson，"Icorrected，andreachedoutmyhandforhis。
Hehesitated，awkwardandbashful，shiftedhisweightfromonelegtotheother，thenblunderinglygrippedmyhandinaheartyshake。
"HaveyouanydryclothesImayputon？"Iaskedthecook。
"Yes，sir，"heanswered，withcheerfulalacrity。"I’llrundownan’
tykealookovermykit，ifyou’venoobjections，sir，towearin’mythings。"
Hedivedoutofthegalleydoor，orglidedrather，withaswiftnessandsmoothnessofgaitthatstruckmeasbeingnotsomuchcat—likeasoily。Infact，thisoiliness，orgreasiness，asIwaslatertolearn，wasprobablythemostsalientexpressionofhispersonality。
"AndwhereamI？"IaskedJohnson，whomItook，andrightly，tobeoneofthesailors。"Whatvesselisthis，andwhereisshebound？"
"OfftheFarallones，headingaboutsou’west，"heanswered，slowlyandmethodically，asthoughgropingforhisbestEnglish，andrigidlyobservingtheorderofmyqueries。"TheschoonerGhost，boundseal—huntingtoJapan。"
"Andwhoisthecaptain？ImustseehimassoonasIamdressed。"
Johnsonlookedpuzzledandembarrassed。Hehesitatedwhilehegropedinhisvocabularyandframedacompleteanswer。"Thecap’nisWolfLarsen，orsomencallhim。Ineverheardhisothername。Butyoubetterspeaksoftwithhim。Heismadthismorning。Themate——"
Buthedidnotfinish。Thecookhadglidedin。
"Betterslingyer’ookoutof’ere，Yonson，"hesaid。"Theoldman’llbewantin’yerondeck，an’thisayn’tnod’ytofallfoulof’im。"
Johnsonturnedobedientlytothedoor，atthesametime，overthecook’sshoulder，favoringmewithanamazinglysolemnandportentouswink，asthoughtoemphasizehisinterruptedremarkandtheneedformetobesoft—spokenwiththecaptain。
Hangingoverthecook’sarmwasalooseandcrumpledarrayofevil—lookingandsour—smellinggarments。
"Theywasputaw’ywet，sir，"hevouchsafedexplanation。"Butyou’ll’avetomakethemdotillIdryyoursoutbythefire。"
Clingingtothewoodwork，staggeringwiththerolloftheship，andaidedbythecook，Imanagedtoslipintoaroughwoollenundershirt。Ontheinstantmyfleshwascreepingandcrawlingfromtheharshcontact。
Henoticedmyinvoluntarytwitchingandgrimacing，andsmirked：
"Ionly’opeyerdon’tever’avetogetusedtosuchasthatinthislife，’cosyou’vegotabloomin’softskin，thatyou’ave，morelikealydy’sthananyIknowof。Iwasbloomin’wellsureyouwasagentlemanassoonasIseteyesonyer。"
Ihadtakenadisliketohimatfirst，andashehelpedtodressmethisdislikeincreased。Therewassomethingrepulsiveabouthistouch。
Ishrankfromhishand；myfleshrevolted。Andbetweenthisandthesmellsarisingfromvariouspotsboilingandbubblingonthegalleyfire，Iwasinhastetogetoutintothefreshair。Further，therewastheneedofseeingthecaptainaboutwhatarrangementscouldbemadeforgettingmeashore。
Acheapcottonshirt，withfrayedcollarandabosomdiscoloredwithwhatItooktobeancientblood—stains，wasputonmeamidarunningandapologeticfireofcomment。Apairofworkman’sbrogansencasedmyfeet，andfortrousersIwasfurnishedwithapairofpaleblue，washed—outoveralls，onelegofwhichwasfullyteninchesshorterthantheother。TheabbreviatedleglookedasthoughthedevilhadthereclutchedfortheCockney’ssoulandmissedtheshadowforthesubstance。
"AndwhomhaveItothankforthiskindness？"Iasked，whenstoodcompletelyarrayed，atinyboy’scaponmyhead，andforcoatadirty，stripedcottonjacketwhichendedatthesmallofmybackandthesleevesofwhichreachedjustbelowmyelbows。
Thecookdrewhimselfupinasmuglyhumblefashion，adeprecatingsmirkonhisface。OutofmyexperiencewithstewardsontheAtlanticlinersattheendofthevoyage，Icouldhaveswornhewaswaitingforhistip。
FrommyfullerknowledgeofthecreatureInowknowthattheposturewasunconscious。Anhereditaryservility，nodoubt，wasresponsible。
"Mugridge，sir，"hefawned，hiseffeminatefeaturesrunningintoagreasysmile。"ThomasMugridge，sir，an’atyerservice。"
"Allright，Thomas，"Isaid。"Ishallnotforgetyou——whenmyclothesaredry。"