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I
“Myfather’saparsoninNorfolk,”itsaid.Evidentlyhehadforgottenhehadtoldmethisimportantfactbefore.Trulyanicelittletale.
“Youhadbetterslipdownintomystateroomnow,”Isaid,movingoffstealthily.Mydoublefollowedmymovements;ourbarefeetmadenosound;Ilethimin,closedthedoorwithcare,and,aftergivingacalltothesecondmate,returnedondeckformyrelief.
“Notmuchsignofanywindyet,”Iremarkedwhenheapproached.
“No,sir.Notmuch,”heassented,sleepily,inhishoarsevoice,withjustenoughdeference,nomore,andbarelysuppressingayawn.
“Well,that’sallyouhavetolookoutfor.Youhavegotyourorders.”
“Yes,sir.”
IpacedaturnortwoonthepoopandsawhimtakeuphispositionfaceforwardwithhiselbowintheratlinesofthemizzenriggingbeforeIwentbelow.Themate’sfaintsnoringwasstillgoingonpeacefully.Thecuddylampwasburningoverthetableonwhichstoodavasewithflowers,apoliteattentionfromtheship’sprovisionmerchant—thelastflowersweshouldseeforthenextthreemonthsattheveryleast.Twobunchesofbananashungfromthebeamsymmetrically,oneoneachsideoftheruddercasing.Everythingwasasbeforeintheship—exceptthattwoofhercaptain’ssleepingsuitsweresimultaneouslyinuse,onemotionlessinthecuddy,theotherkeepingverystillinthecaptain’sstateroom.
ItmustbeexplainedherethatmycabinhadtheformofthecapitalletterL,thedoorbeingwithintheangleandopeningintotheshortpartoftheletter.