WILLIAM HOPE HODGSON: Horror Classics, Supernatural Tales and Poems. William Hope Hodgson
the devil don’t you answer my questions then?” he shouted, angrily. “What’s the matter with you? What have you been doing with the ship? Answer me now!”
“I was looking at that ship away on the starboard quarter, Sir,” I blurted out. “She’s been signalling —”
“What!” he cut me short with disbelief. “What ship?”
He turned, quickly, and looked over the quarter. Then he wheeled round to me again.
“There’s no ship! What do you mean by trying to spin up a cuffer like that?”
“There is, Sir,” I answered. “It’s out there —” I pointed.
“Hold your tongue!” he said. “Don’t talk rubbish to me. Do you think I’m blind?”
“I saw it, Sir,” I persisted.
“Don’t you talk back to me!” he snapped, with a quick burst of temper. “I won’t have it!”
Then, just as suddenly, he was silent. He came a step towards me, and stared into my face. I believe the old ass thought I was a bit mad; anyway, without another word, he went to the break of the poop.
“Mr. Tulipson,” he sung out.
“Yes, Sir,” I heard the Second Mate reply.
“Send another man to the wheel.”
“Very good, Sir,” the Second answered.
A couple of minutes later, old Jaskett came up to relieve me. I gave him the course, and he repeated it.
“What’s up, mate?” he asked me, as I stepped off the grating.
“Nothing much,” I said, and went forrard to where the Skipper was standing on the break of the poop. I gave him the course; but the crabby old devil took no notice of me, whatever. When I got down on to the maindeck, I went up to the Second, and gave it to him. He answered me civilly enough, and then asked me what I had been doing to put the Old Man’s back up.
“I told him there’s a ship on the starboard quarter, signalling us,” I said.
“There’s no ship out there, Jessop,” the Second Mate replied, looking at me with a queer, inscrutable expression.
“There is, Sir,” I began. “I—”
“That will do, Jessop!” he said. “Go forrard and have a smoke. I shall want you then to give a hand with these foot-ropes. You’d better bring a serving-mallet aft with you, when you come.”
I hesitated a moment, partly in anger; but more, I think, in doubt.
“i, i, Sir,” I muttered at length, and went forrard.
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