As he put his foot on the rail, Mr. Court said, ‘Good morning, sir.’ But instead of replying, the Captain said, ‘Whyn’t ye git under weigh?’ And without pausing for an answer shouted: ‘Man th’ windlass.’ The cry was re-echoed all over the ship, and almost immediately nothing could be heard for the clatter of the pawls as the big windlass barrel revolved at top speed. ‘Down frum aloft there an’ loose sail, courses, taups’les, an’ t’gallantsails,’ again shouted the Captain. ‘Lively naow; think yer goin’ t’ sit up thar an’ sleep while th’ ship’s gittin’ under weigh?’ Oh, he was a hustler, was Captain Da Silva. In ten minutes from the time he came on board the boat’s cargo was discharged, she was hoisted, the _Grampus_ was under weigh, and pointing south for the resumption of the long and weary voyage. Then, and not till then, did the skipper condescend to say anything to his chief officer. He called him, and with a coldly sarcastic curl of his lip as he saw him hobbling aft on improvised crutches, he said, ‘Anythin’ t’ report?’ ‘No, sir,’ replied Mr. Court, ‘’cept thet I’ve returned t’ duty.’ ‘No need t’ report _thet_, anyhaow,’ growled the skipper; ‘I k’n use my eyes. But yew don’t look pretty, ’n thet’s a fact. Mout’s well hide yerself a bit longer, moutn’t ye? Hain’t gut tired doin’ nawthin’, I’m sure.’ ‘See here, Captain Da Silva,’ hissed the mate, ‘you’ve gut th’ whip hand now, I’ll own, but if ever I git on equal terms with ye, all this’ll hev t’ be settled fur.’ ‘Go, lie daown, dog,’ muttered the Captain. ‘I’ll attend t’ you an’ all th’ rest right along ’n’ git all th’ sleep I need too.’ And the _Grampus_ began to rise and fall gently to the incoming swell as the Captain went below.
We left our hero Rube suffering in body but triumphant in soul, and also in perfect ignorance of the astounding change his behaviour was bringing about in all hands. I have always maintained that a Christian ship presents as near an approach to what most of us agree Heaven must be like as we can make on this side of the gate thereof. For look at the position! The grosser forms of temptation are entirely absent, yet there is none of the selfish side of monasticism present. Men talk and laugh and work with their fellows amid the most glorious of all earthly surroundings--the pure, wide, bright ocean. There is no monotony, since every day brings diversified duties, and in hours of rest not needed for sleep there is an ever-changing panorama of glory present to the newly awakened eyes, drawing ever-deepening thankfulness from the regenerated heart. The thousand-and-one miseries and pettinesses that distract men ashore are absent. From the little world evil has departed--almost the knowledge of it, since there is no daily paper recording the never-ending succession of crimes.