like a solid wedge. He hung round Jukes' neck as heavy as a millstone,
and suddenly the sides of their heads knocked together.

"Jukes! Mr. Jukes, I say!"

He had to answer that voice that would not be silenced. He answered in
the customary manner: ". . . Yes, sir."

And directly, his heart, corrupted by the storm that breeds a craving
for peace, rebelled against the tyranny of training and command.

Captain MacWhirr had his mate's head fixed firm in the crook of his
elbow, and pressed it to his yelling lips mysteriously. Sometimes
Jukes would break in, admonishing hastily: "Look out, sir!" or Captain
MacWhirr would bawl an earnest exhortation to "Hold hard, there!" and
the whole black universe seemed to reel together with the ship. They
paused. She floated yet. And Captain MacWhirr would resume, his shouts.
". . . . Says . . . whole lot . . . fetched away. . . . Ought to see
. . . what's the matter."

Directly the full force of the hurricane had struck the ship, every part
of her deck became untenable; and the sailors, dazed and dismayed, took
shelter in the port alleyway under the bridge. It had a door aft, which
they shut; it was very black, cold, and dismal. At each heavy fling of
the ship they would groan all together in the dark, and tons of water
could be heard scuttling about as if trying to get at them from above.
The boatswain had been keeping up a gruff talk, but a more unreasonable
lot of men, he said afterwards, he had never been with. They were snug
enough there, out of harm's way, and not wanted to do anything, either;
and yet they did nothing but grumble and complain peevishly like so many