really
the roof or deck over all the cabin space below, and which occupied the
whole after-part of the ship, was very large. It was broken only by the
half-round and half-covered wheel-house at the very stern and by the
chart-house. On either side of the latter two doors opened into a tiny
hallway. This, in turn, gave access to the chart-room and to a stairway
that led down into the cabin quarters beneath.
I peeped into the chart-room and was greeted with a smile by Captain
West. He was lolling back comfortably in a swing chair, his feet cocked
on the desk opposite. On a broad, upholstered couch sat the pilot. Both
were smoking cigars; and, lingering for a moment to listen to the
conversation, I grasped that the pilot was an ex-sea-captain.
As I descended the stairs, from Miss West's room came a sound of humming
and bustling, as she settled her belongings. The energy she displayed,
to judge by the cheerful noises of it, was almost perturbing.
Passing by the pantry, I put my head inside the door to greet the steward
and courteously let him know that I was aware of his existence. Here, in
his little realm, it was plain that efficiency reigned. Everything was
spotless and in order, and I could have wished and wished vainly for a
more noiseless servant than he ashore. His face, as he regarded me, had
as little or as much expression as the Sphinx. But his slant, black eyes
were bright, with intelligence.
"What do you think of the crew?" I asked, in order to put words to my
invasion of his castle.
"Buggy-house," he answered promptly, with a disgusted shake of the head.
"Too much buggy-house. All crazy. You see. No good. Rotten. Down to
hell."
That was all, but it verified my own judgment. While it might be true,
as Miss West had said, that every ship's crew contained several lunatics
and idiots, it was a foregone conclusion that our crew contained far more
than several. In fact, and as it was to turn out, our crew, even in
these degenerate sailing days, was an unusual crew in so far as its
helplessness and worthlessness were beyond the average.
I found my own room (in reality it was two rooms) delightful. Wada had
unpacked and stored away my entire outfit of clothing, and had filled
numerous shelves with the library I had brought along. Everything was in
order and place, from my shaving outfit in the drawer beside the wash-
basin, and my sea-boots and oilskins hung ready to hand, to my writin
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