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The man glanced up, and, breaking off his song in the middle of a note, stood gazing at Bellew, open-mouthed. "What, be that you, sir?" he enquired, at last, and then, "Lord! an' what be you a doing of up theer?" "Why, sleeping, of course," answered Bellew. "W'ot again!" exclaimed the Waggoner with a grin, "you do be for ever a-sleepin' I do believe!"
Look w'ot whiskey done!" Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the nightmarish quality of the adventure, but there off the starboard arose a great bulk, blotting out the stars. It was not a ship; it was not a barge; there was not a light on it, but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated. It was as shapeless as death. "The Flyin' Dutchman!" shuddered Galton.
When he had focused his glasses, Madden made out two fighting tops steel baskets circling steel masts, thrust up menacingly over the slope of the world. "W'ot is it, sir?" repeated Malone uneasily. Just then Madden's eye caught the flag at the peak, as it fluttered under the drive of the distant ship. It was the black cross on the white ground, with the dark upper left quarter of the German navy.
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