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Updated: June 16, 2025
I demanded impatiently. "Pull yourself together and tell me what you saw." It was some time before he could tell a connected story, and, when he did, I was inclined to suspect that he had heard us talking the night before, had heard Adams's description of the intruder on the forecastle-head, and that, what with drink and terror, he had fancied the rest. And yet, I was not so sure.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, terrified with what had gone by and what was yet to come, unshaven and unkempt, the men gathered on the forecastle-head and waited. The conference below lasted perhaps an hour.
A light and graceful bridge of steel rods and planking ran the full length of the Elsinore, starting from the poop, crossing the amidship house and the forecastle, and connecting with the forecastle-head at the very bow of the ship. At the mate's command the men reeled about and glowered up at him, one or two starting clumsily to obey.
"What sort of night was it?" "Very dark." "Would the first mate, as officer on watch, be supposed to see that the emergency case you speak of was in order?" "Yes, sir." "Did the officer on watch remain on the forecastle-head?" "Mr. Schwartz did not; Mr. Singleton did, mostly except when he went back to strike the bells." "Could Mr. Singleton have been on deck without you seeing him?"
On the following day, the ship still heading to the northward, we sighted a couple of junks, about a mile apart, steering south. They were made out from the forecastle-head, about three points on the lee bow, at four bells of the forenoon watch; and the emigrants, who were all on deck, manifested much interest in the quaint appearance of the craft, as they approached us close-hauled.
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