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Updated: May 16, 2025
"See anything?" asked the Old Man, suddenly observing his attitude. Plummer glanced at him, with a start. "It's ther r'yal, Sir," he explained. "It's all adrift." "What!" said the Old Man. He was standing a few ratlines up the t'gallant rigging, and he bent his body outwards to get a better look. "Mr. Tulipson!" he shouted. "Do you know that the royal's all adrift?"
'e said Williams 'ad 'ad er fall." He broke off, and looked across the fo'cas'le. "Where is 'e?" he inquired, in a puzzled voice. I glanced at the others; but no one seemed inclined to start yarning about it. "He fell from the t'gallant rigging!" I said. "Where is 'e?" he repeated. "Smashed up," I said. "He's lying on the hatch." "Dead?" he asked. I nodded.
"T'gallant sails! stunsails! alow and aloft, and on both sides!"
He pulled off the cap of the light. "There's two of them, Sir," I called again to him. "What!" he said in a loud voice, and at the same instant he rubbed the end of the light across the cap, and it burst into fire. He held it up so that it lit the royal yard like day, and straightway, a couple of shapes dropped silently from the royal on to the t'gallant yard.
I heerd the bones o' his hand and arm crack like so many sticks and down he falls atop o' me in a dead faint, sir." "But the t'gallant were stopped, and the life were kept in this here carcase o' mine. So that's how the poor old 'Bully-Sawyer, Seventy-four, were done for that's how his Honor lost his arm, and me my leg, sir.
Our lungs were pressed down by it. Day after day we sailed, and the gas sailed with us. "The bo'sn fell in a fit. A man on the t'gallant yard fell to the deck and was killed. Three did not awake one morning. We threw their bodies over the side. The mate spat blood and called on God as he leaped into the sea. The smell of the gas never left us.
We'd only ten of a crew all told, and there wasn't a man of them that had had a whole watch below since we got our clearance. Fore t'gallant mast had gone like a carrot at the cap, and mizzen-mast head was so sprung that she wouldn't bear the spanker. She was squattering along under the two lower topsails only, and we amused ourselves by betting when they'd split.
"Anything wrong, Sir?" I asked. "No o!" he said. "Nothing! I banged my knee." And yet now, I believe he was lying. For, that same watch, I was to hear men giving just such cries; but, God knows, they had reason enough. Hands That Plucked Directly we reached the deck, the Second Mate gave the order: "Mizzen t'gallant clewlines and buntlines," and led the way up on to the poop.
"Bad," I said. "Damn bad! I think the Steward ought to be told to come and have a look at him. I'll mention it to the Second when I get a chance." I stepped out on deck, and ran aft again to give them a hand with the sail. We got it hauled up, and then went forrard to the fore t'gallant. And, a minute later, the other watch were out, and, with the Mate, were busy at the main.
He was standing at the foot of the weather t'gallant rigging, his face was turned upwards, peering round the after side of the mast. It showed to me only as a blurred, pale-coloured oval in the moonlight. He repeated his question. "It's Williams and I, Sir," I said. "Tom, here, has had an accident." I stopped. He began to come up higher towards us.
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