’After you had concluded you had collided with something floating awash, say a water-logged wreck, you were ordered by your captain to go forward and ascertain if there was any damage done.  Did you think it likely from the force of the blow?’ asked the assessor sitting to the left.  He had a thin horseshoe beard, salient cheek-bones, and with both elbows on the desk clasped his rugged hands before his face, looking at Jim with thoughtful blue eyes; the other, a heavy, scornful man, thrown back in his seat, his left arm extended full length, drummed delicately with his finger-tips on a blotting-pad:  in the middle the magistrate upright in the roomy arm-chair, his head inclined slightly on the shoulder, had his arms crossed on his breast and a few flowers in a glass vase by the side of his inkstand.

‘I did not,’ said Jim.  ’I was told to call no one and to make no noise for fear of creating a panic.  I thought the precaution reasonable.  I took one of the lamps that were hung under the awnings and went forward.  After opening the forepeak hatch I heard splashing in there.  I lowered then the lamp the whole drift of its lanyard, and saw that the forepeak was more than half full of water already.  I knew then there must be a big hole below the water-line.’  He paused.

‘Yes,’ said the big assessor, with a dreamy smile at the blotting-pad; his fingers played incessantly, touching the paper without noise.

’I did not think of danger just then.  I might have been a little startled:  all this happened in such a quiet way and so very suddenly.  I knew there was no other bulkhead in the ship but the collision bulkhead separating the forepeak from the forehold.  I went back to tell the captain.  I came upon the second engineer getting up at the foot of the bridge-ladder:  he seemed dazed, and told me he thought his left arm was broken; he had slipped on the top step when getting down while I was forward.  He exclaimed, “My God!  That rotten bulkhead’ll give way in a minute, and the damned thing will go down under us like a lump of lead.”  He pushed me away with his right arm and ran before me up the ladder, shouting as he climbed.  His left arm hung by his side.  I followed up in time to see the captain rush at him and knock him down flat on his back.  He did not strike him again:  he stood bending over him and speaking angrily but quite low.  I fancy he was asking him why the devil he didn’t go and stop the engines, instead of making a row about it on deck.  I heard him say, “Get up!  Run! fly!” He swore also.  The engineer slid down the starboard ladder and bolted round the skylight to the engine-room companion which was on the port side.  He moaned as he ran. . . .’