"Are you all clear there?" he shouted again.

The answer came, unintelligible and unexpected. It ran like this:

"Blarst yer ... I've styed ... Did yer think ... drive ... bl--y
piy-diy." And then there was a sudden silence.

I stared up at the dim sail, astonished.

"He's dotty!" said Stubbins, who had been told to come off the look-out
and give us a pull.

"'e's as mad as a bloomin' 'atter," said Quoin, who was standing
foreside of me. "'e's been queer all along."

"Silence there!" shouted the Second Mate. Then:

"Williams!"

No answer.

"Williams!" more loudly.

Still no answer.

Then:

"Damn you, you jumped-up cockney crocodile! Can't you hear? Are you
blooming-well deaf?"