no need. We heard Old Goss's voice raging like a fury.

'You're a cheat, Old Un,' he was yelling out. 'You cheat all mankind:
you've cheated me. Come, play; double or quits on the first turn-up.
What's that? Nine of Spades! Seven of Spades! What! no trumps? I say,
don't you mind the old craft under the line? That's her opposite you;
so, play away.'

'Mates,' says an old salt--his name was Bartholomew Cook--'mates,'
says he, 'this is a doomed ship, an I won't ship for another v'y'ge.'

'Nor I;' 'nor I,' says several, as we crept along.

'He's only mad with drink,' whispered the mate. 'It's all five-water
grog.'

'Is it?' said Bartholomew. 'Look down there!'

The men crept to the skylight, and peeped; and so did I. What we saw,
not a man forgot the longest day he lived. The captain was dealing the
cards furiously; his face working and swelling; his hair bristling up;
his good eye gleaming, and the patch off the other, the blind one,
which was shining, too, as it were, like a rotten oyster in the dark.

'Play!' roars Goss at last; and then he paused, as if he was thinking
of his next card. The table was rapped. He played; and then quick and
furious the cards came down; the captain all the while raving,
shouting, and foaming at the mouth.

'Against me--against me--against me! Avaunt! A man's no match for ye.