if it had not been on the chart, and anchored.

Night came, and drove me below to the saloon, where we made five who sat
with the sprats, now fried, and mugs of tea before us. The saloon was
the hollow stern, a triangle with a little fireplace in its base, and
four bunks in its sides. Its centre was filled with a triangular table,
over which, pendent from the skylight, was an oil-lamp in chains. A
settee ran completely round the sides, and on that one sat for meals, and
used it as a step when climbing into a bunk. The skipper cheerily hailed
me. "As you're in for it, make yourself comfortable. Sorry we can't do
more than give you the seat to sleep on. But the chief thing in this
ship is fish. Try some sprats."

"Aye, try yon sprats," invited the Chief. "Ye'll get to like them well,
in time." After the fish there was cards, in which I took no hand, but
regarded four bent heads, so intent they might have been watching a
ritual of magic which might betray their fate; and, above those heads,
motionless blue cirrus clouds of tobacco smoke wreathing the still lamp.
The hush was so profound that we could have been anchored beyond the
confines of this life.


2

What the time was next morning when I woke I do not know, for the saloon
was too dark to show the clock, over the fireplace. But the skylight was
a pale cube of daylight, and through it I could see a halyard quivering
and swaying, apparently in a high wind. My bench was in a continuous
tremor.