He was cheered by the
rattling of blocks, reassured by the stir and murmur of the watch,
soothed by the slow yawn of some sleepy and weary seaman settling
himself deliberately for a snooze on the planks. Life seemed an
indestructible thing. It went on in darkness, in sunshine, in sleep;
tireless, it hovered affectionately round the imposture of his ready
death. It was bright, like the twisted flare of lightning, and more full
of surprises than the dark night. It made him safe, and the calm of
its overpowering darkness was as precious as its restless and dangerous
light.
But in the evening, in the dog-watches, and even far into the first
night-watch, a knot of men could always be seen congregated before
Jimmy's cabin. They leaned on each side of the door peacefully
interested and with crossed legs; they stood astride the doorstep
discoursing, or sat in silent couples on his sea-chest; while against
the bulwark along the spare topmast, three or four in a row stared
meditatively; with their simple faces lit up by the projected glare of
Jimmy's lamp. The little place, repainted white, had, in the night,
the brilliance of a silver shrine where a black idol, reclining stiffly
under a blanket, blinked its weary eyes and received our homage.
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