He held the light out before him, and peered at the thing.

"My God!" he said. "It's Williams!"

He stooped lower with the light, and I saw details. It was Williams
right enough. The Second Mate told a couple of the men to lift him and
straighten him out on the hatch. Then he went aft to call the Skipper.
He returned in a couple of minutes with an old ensign which he spread
over the poor beggar. Almost directly, the Captain came hurrying forward
along the decks. He pulled back one end of the ensign, and looked; then
he put it back quietly, and the Second Mate explained all that we knew,
in a few words.

"Would you leave him where he is, Sir?" he asked, after he had told
everything.

"The night's fine," said the Captain. "You may as well leave the poor
devil there."

He turned, and went aft, slowly. The man who was holding the light,
swept it round so that it showed the place where Williams had struck the
deck.

The Second Mate spoke abruptly.

"Get a broom and a couple of buckets, some of you."

He turned sharply, and ordered Tammy on to the poop.

As soon as he had seen the yard mast-headed, and the ropes cleared up,