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I
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Ihearda“ByJove!”whisperedatthelevelofthewater.Thephosphorescenceflashedintheswirlofthewaterallabouthislimbs,hisotherhandseizedtheladder.
“Myname’sLeggatt.”
Thevoicewascalmandresolute.Agoodvoice.Theself-possessionofthatmanhadsomehowinducedacorrespondingstateinmyself.ItwasveryquietlythatIremarked:
“Youmustbeagoodswimmer.”
“Yes.I’vebeeninthewaterpracticallysincenineo’clock.ThequestionformenowiswhetherIamtoletgothisladderandgoonswimmingtillIsinkfromexhaustion,or—tocomeonboardhere.”
Ifeltthiswasnomereformulaofdesperatespeech,butarealalternativeintheviewofastrongsoul.Ishouldhavegatheredfromthisthathewasyoung;indeed,itisonlytheyoungwhoareeverconfrontedbysuchclearissues.Butatthetimeitwaspureintuitiononmypart.Amysteriouscommunicationwasestablishedalreadybetweenustwo—inthefaceofthatsilent,darkenedtropicalsea.Iwasyoung,too;youngenoughtomakenocomment.Themaninthewaterbegansuddenlytoclimbuptheladder,andIhastenedawayfromtherailtofetchsomeclothes.
BeforeenteringthecabinIstoodstill,listeninginthelobbyatthefootofthestairs.Afaintsnorecamethroughthecloseddoorofthechiefmate’sroom.Thesecondmate’sdoorwasonthehook,butthedarknessintherewasabsolutelysoundless.He,too,wasyoungandcouldsleeplikeastone.Remainedthesteward,buthewasnotlikelytowakeupbeforehewascalled.
