own eyes, out of the part scribbled that very
evening:

*****

"There is something going on in the sky like a decomposition; like a
corruption of the air, which remains as still as ever. After all, mere
clouds, which may or may not hold wind or rain. Strange that it should
trouble me so. I feel as if all my sins had found me out. But I suppose
the trouble is that the ship is still lying motionless, not under
command; and that I have nothing to do to keep my imagination from
running wild amongst the disastrous images of the worst that may befall
us. What's going to happen? Probably nothing. Or anything. It may be a
furious squall coming, butt end foremost. And on deck there are five
men with the vitality and the strength of, say, two. We may have all our
sails blown away. Every stitch of canvas has been on her since we broke
ground at the mouth of the Mei-nam, fifteen days ago . . . or fifteen
centuries. It seems to me that all my life before that momentous day is
infinitely remote, a fading memory of light-hearted youth, something on
the other side of a shadow. Yes, sails may very well be blown away.
And that would be like a death sentence on the men. We haven't strength
enough on board to bend another suit; incredible thought, but it is
true. Or we may even get dismasted. Ships have been dismasted in squalls
simply because they weren't handled quick enough, and we have no
power to whirl the yards around. It's like being bound hand and foot
preparatory to having one's throat cut. And what appals me most of all
is that I shrink from going on deck to face it. It's due to the ship,
it's due to the men who are there on deck--some of them, ready to put
out the last remnant of their strength at a word from me. And I am
shrinking from it. From the mere vision. My first command. Now I
understand that strange sense of insecurity in my past. I always
suspected that I might be no good. And here is proof positive. I am
shirking it. I am no good."

*****

At that moment, or, perhaps, the moment after, I became aware of Ransome
standing in the cabin. Something in his expression startled me. It had a
meaning which I could not make out. I exclaimed: "Somebody's dead."

It was his turn then to look startled.

"Dead? Not that I know of, sir. I have been in the forecastle only ten
minutes ago and there was no dead man there then."

"You did give me a scare," I said.

His voice was extremely pleasant to listen to. He explained t