aight into every individual pair of
the twenty pairs of eyes before his face. At his back Mr. Baker, gloomy
and bull-necked, grunted low; Mr. Creighton, fresh as paint, had rosy
cheeks and a ready, resolute bearing. "And I don't now," continued the
master; "but I am here to drive this ship and keep every man-jack aboard
of her up to the mark. If you knew your work as well as I do mine,
there would be no trouble. You've been braying in the dark about 'See
to-morrow morning!' Well, you see me now. What do you want?" He waited,
stepping quickly to and fro, giving them searching glances. What did
they want? They shifted from foot to foot, they balanced their bodies;
some, pushing back their caps, scratched their heads. What did they
want? Jimmy was forgotten; no one thought of him, alone forward in
his cabin, fighting great shadows, clinging to brazen lies, chuckling
painfully over his transparent deceptions. No, not Jimmy; he was more
forgotten than if he had been dead. They wanted great things. And
suddenly all the simple words they knew seemed to be lost for ever in
the immensity of their vague and burning desire. They knew what they
wanted, but they could not find anything worth saying. They stirred on
one spot, swinging, at the end of muscular arms, big tarry hands with
crooked fingers. A murmur died out.--"What is it--food?" asked the master,
"you know the stores have been spoiled off the Cape."--"We know that,
sir," said a bearded shell-back in the front rank.--"Work too hard--eh?
Too much for your strength?" he asked again. There was an offended
silence.--"We don't want to go shorthanded, sir," began at last Davis in
a wavering voice, "and this 'ere black...."--"Enough!" cried the master.
He stood scanning them for a moment, then walking a few steps this way
and that began to storm at them coldly, in gusts violent and cutting
like the gales of those icy seas that had known his youth.--"Tell you
what's the matter? Too big for your boots. Think yourselves damn good
men. Know half your work. Do half your duty. Think it too much. If you
did ten times as much it wouldn't be enough."--"We did our best by her,
sir," cried some one with shaky exasperation.--"Your best," stormed on
the master; "You hear a lot on shore, don't you? They don't tell you
there your best isn't much to boast of. I tell you--your best is no
better than bad."

"You can do no more? No, I know, and say nothing. But you stop your
caper or I will stop it