d a minute proportion, but it might have been my luck; and
since I am writing in eulogy of seamen I feel irresistibly tempted to
talk about this unique specimen; not indeed to offer him as an example of
morality, but to bring out certain characteristics and set out a certain
point of view. He was a large, strong man with a guileless countenance,
not very communicative with his shipmates, but when drawn into any sort
of conversation displaying a very painstaking earnestness. He was fair
and candid-eyed, of a very satisfactory smartness, and, from the officer-
of-the-watch point of view,--altogether dependable. Then, suddenly, he
went and stole. And he didn't go away from his honourable kind to do
that thing to somebody on shore; he stole right there on the spot, in
proximity to his shipmates, on board his own ship, with complete
disregard for old Brown, our night watchman (whose fame for
trustworthiness was utterly blasted for the rest of the voyage) and in
such a way as to bring the profoundest possible trouble to all the
blameless souls animating that ship. He stole eleven golden sovereigns,
and a gold pocket chronometer and chain. I am really in doubt whether
the crime should not be entered under the category of sacrilege rather
than theft. Those things belonged to the captain! There was certainly
something in the nature of the violation of a sanctuary, and of a
particularly impudent kind, too, because he got his plunder out of the
captain's state-room while the captain was asleep there. But look, now,
at the fantasy of the man! After going through the pockets of the
clothes, he did not hasten to retreat. No. He went deliberately into
the saloon and removed from the sideboard two big heavy, silver-plated
lamps, which he carried to the fore-end of the ship and stood
symmetrically on the knight-heads. This, I must explain, means that he
took them away as far as possible from the place where they belonged.
These were the deeds of darkness. In the morning the bo'sun came along
dragging after him a hose to wash the foc'sle head, and, beholding the
shiny cabin lamps, resplendent in the morning light, one on each side of
the bowsprit, he was paralysed with awe. He dropped the nozzle from his
nerveless hands--and such hands, too! I happened along, and he said to
me in a distracted whisper: "Look at that, sir, look." "Take them back
aft at once yourself," I said, very amazed, too. As we approached the
quarterde