ay cards, by the light of the nearest
battle-lantern. If they had made a noise I should probably have fallen
asleep again in a few minutes; for what would one rough noise have been
among all the noise on deck? But they kept very quiet, talking in
low voices as they called the cards, rapping gently on the chest-lid,
opening the lantern gently to get lights for their pipes. Their
quietness was like the stealthy approach of an enemy, it kept a restless
man awake, just as the snapping of twigs in a forest will keep an Indian
awake, while he will sleep soundly when trees are falling. I kept awake,
too, in spite of myself (or half awake), wishing that the men would go,
but fearing to speak to them. At last, fearing that I should never get
to sleep at all, I looked over the edge of the hammock intending to
ask them to go. I saw then that one of them was my enemy the boatswain,
while the other was the ship's carpenter, who had eaten supper in the
galley with me, at the cook's invitation. As these were, in a sense,
officers, I dared not open my mouth to them, so I lay down again, hoping
that either they would go soon, or that they would let me get to sleep
before the morning. As I lay there, I overheard their talk. I could not
help it. I could hear every word spoken by them. I did not want their
talk, goodness knows, but as I could not help it, I listened.

"Heigho," said the boatswain, yawning. "I sha'n't have much to spend on
Hollands when I get there. Them rubbers at bowls in London have pretty
near cleaned my purse out."

"Ah, come off," said the carpenter. "You can always get rid of a coil of
rope to someone, on the sly, you boatswains can. A coil of rope comes to
a few guilders. Eh, mynheer?"

"I sold too many coils off this hooker," said the boatswain. "I run the
ship short."

"Who sleeps in the hammock there?" the carpenter asked.

"The loblolly boy for the cabin," the boatswain answered. "Young clumsy
hound. I clumped his fat chops for him this morning."

"Mr. Jermyn's boy?" said the carpenter, sinking his voice. "There's
something queer about that Mr. Jermyn. 'E wears a false beard. That Mr.
Scott isn't all what he pretends neither."

"I don't see how that can be," the boatswain said, "I wish I'd a drink
of something. I'm as dry as foul block."

"There'd be more'n a dram to us two, if Mr. Scott was what I think,"
said the carpenter. "I'm going to keep my eye on that gang."

"Keep your eye on the moon," said t