" Donkin looked severe and
disgusted; Jimmy very bored; a grey-haired sea-dog shook his head
slightly, smiling at the bowl of his pipe, discreetly amused.
Knowles turned about bewildered; stammered first at one, then at
another.--"No!... I never!... can't talk sensible sense midst you....
Always on the kid." He retired bashfully--muttering and pleased. They
laughed, hooting in the crude light, around Jimmy's bed, where on a
white pillow his hollowed black face moved to and fro restlessly. A puff
of wind came, made the flame of the lamp leap, and outside, high up,
the sails fluttered, while near by the block of the foresheet struck
a ringing blow on the iron bulwark. A voice far off cried, "Helm
up!" another, more faint, answered, "Hard-up, sir!" They became
silent--waited expectantly. The grey-haired seaman knocked his pipe
on the doorstep and stood up.' The ship leaned over gently and the sea
seemed to wake up, murmuring drowsily. "Here's a little wind comin',"
said some one very low. Jimmy turned over slowly to face the breeze. The
voice in the night cried loud and commanding:--"Haul the spanker out."
The group before the door vanished out of the light.
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