Hark!

           "HIST!Didyouhearthatnoise,Cabaco?

           Itwasthemiddle-watch:afairmoonlight;theseamenwerestandinginacordon,extendingfromoneofthefresh-waterbuttsinthewaist,tothescuttle-buttnearthetaffrail.Inthismanner,theypassedthebucketstofillthescuttle-butt.Standing,forthemostpart,onthehallowedprecinctsofthequarter-deck,theywerecarefulnottospeakorrustletheirfeet.Fromhandtohand,thebucketswentinthedeepestsilence,onlybrokenbytheoccasionalflapofasail,andthesteadyhumoftheunceasinglyadvancingkeel.

           Itwasinthemidstofthisrepose,thatArchy,oneofthecordon,whosepostwasneartheafter-hatches,whisperedtohisneighbor,aCholo,thewordsabove.

           "Hist!didyouhearthatnoise,Cabaco?"

           "Takethebucket,willye,Archy?whatnoised’yemean?"

           "Thereitisagainunderthehatchesdon’tyouhearitacoughitsoundedlikeacough."

           "Coughbedamned!Passalongthatreturnbucket."

           "Thereagainthereitis!itsoundsliketwoorthreesleepersturningover,now!"

           "Caramba!havedone,shipmate,willye?It’sthethreesoakedbiscuitsyeeatforsupperturningoverinsideofyenothingelse.Looktothebucket!"

           "Saywhatyewill,shipmate;I’vesharpears."

           "Aye,youarethechap,ain’tye,thatheardthehumoftheoldQuakeress’sknitting-needlesfiftymilesatseafromNantucket;you’rethechap."

           "Grinaway;we’llseewhatturnsup

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