“Don’t ask me any questions of that kind, my lads,” I replied promptly, seeing a general movement of heads in the bunks and hammocks.  “I’d give you proper victuals if I had the ordering of them; and I have spoken to Captain Coxon about you, and I am sure he will see this matter put to rights.”

I had difficulty in making my voice heard, for the striking of the seas against the ship’s bows filled the place with an overwhelming volume of sound; and the hollow, deafening thunder was increased by the uproar of the ship’s straining timbers.

“Who the devil thinks,” said a voice from a hammock, “that we’re going to let ourselves be grinded as we was last night without proper wittles to support us?  I’d rather have signed articles for a coal-barge, with drowned rats to eat from Gravesend to Whitstable, than shipped in this here cursed vessel, where the bread’s just fit to make savages retch!”

I had not bargained for this, but had merely meant to address them cheerily, with a few words of approval of the smart way in which they had worked the ship in the night.  Seeing that my presence would do no good, I turned about and left the forecastle, hearing, as I came away, one of the Dutchmen cry out:—­

“Look here, Mister Rile, vill you be pleashed to ssay when we are to hov’ something to eat?—­for by Gott! ve vill kill te dom pigs in the long-boat if the skipper don’t mindt—­so look out!”

As ill-luck would have it, Captain Coxon was at the break of the poop, and saw me come out of the forecastle.  He waited until he had got me alongside of him, when he asked me what I was doing among the men.

“I looked in to give them a good word for the work they did last night,” I answered.

“And who asked you to give them a good word, as you call it?”

“I have never had to wait for orders to encourage a crew.”

“Mind what you are about, sir!” he exclaimed, in a voice tremulous with rage.  “I see through your game, and I’ll put a stopper upon it that you won’t like.”

“What game, sir?  Let me have your meaning.”

“An infernal mutinous game!” he roared.  “Don’t talk to me, sir!  I know you!  I’ve had my eye upon you!  You’ll play false if you can, and are trying to smother up your d—­d rebel meanings with genteel airs!  Get away, sir!” he bellowed, stamping his foot.  “Get away aft!  You’re a lumping useless incumbrance!  But by thunder!  I’ll give you two for every one you try to give me!  So stand by!”

And apparently half mad with his rage, he staggered away in the very direction in which he had told me to go, and stood near the wheel, glaring upon me with a white face, which looked indescribably malevolent in the fur cap and ear-protectors that ornamented it.