and went on deck. Mr. Pike had already dressed and was ahead of me.
Captain West, who in this bad weather sleeps in the chart-room, stood
in the lee doorway of the house, through which the lamplight streamed
on the frightened faces of the men.

Those of the 'midship-house were not present, but every man Jack of
the forecastle, with the exception of Andy Fay and Mulligan Jacobs,
as I afterwards learned, had joined in the flight aft. Andy Fay, who
belonged in the watch below, had calmly remained in his bunk, while
Mulligan Jacobs had taken advantage of the opportunity to sneak into
the forecastle and fill his pipe.

"What is the matter, Mr. Pike?" Captain West asked.

Before the mate could reply, Bert Rhine snickered:

"The devil's come aboard, sir."

But his snicker was palpably an assumption of unconcern he did not
possess. The more I think over it the more I am surprised that such
keen men as the gangsters should have been frightened by what had
occurred. But frightened they were, the three of them, out of their
bunks and out of the precious surcease of their brief watch below.

So fear-struck was Larry that he chattered and grimaced like an ape,
and shouldered and struggled to get away from the dark and into the
safety of the shaft of light that shone out of the chart-house.
Tony, the Greek, was just as bad, mumbling to himself and continually
crossing himself. He was joined in this, as a sort of chorus, by the
two Italians, Guido Bombini and Mike Cipriani. Arthur Deacon was