"Conrad, Joseph - The Secret Sharer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Conrad Joseph)

After thus overwhelming us with the extent of his
information he slipped out of the cabin. The mate ob-
served regretfully that he "could not account for that
young fellow's whims." What prevented him telling us all
about it at once, he wanted to know.

I detained him as he was making a move. For the
last two days the crew had had plenty of hard work,
and the night before they had very little sleep. I felt
painfully that I--a stranger--was doing something un-
usual when I directed him to let all hands turn in with-
out setting an anchor watch. I proposed to keep on deck
myself till one o'clock or thereabouts. I would get the
second mate to relieve me at that hour.

"He will turn out the cook and the steward at four,"
I concluded, "and then give you a call. Of course at the
slightest sign of any sort of wind we'll have the hands up
and make a start at once."

He concealed his astonishment. "Very well, sir." Out-
side the cuddy he put his head in the second mate's door
to inform him of my unheard-of caprice to take a five
hours' anchor watch on myself. I heard the other raise
his voice incredulously--"What? The Captain himself?"
Then a few more murmurs, a door closed, then an-
other. A few moments later I went on deck.

My strangeness, which had made me sleepless, had
prompted that unconventional arrangement, as if I
had expected in those solitary hours of the night to get
on terms with the ship of which I knew nothing, manned
by men of whom I knew very little more. Fast along-
side a wharf, littered like any ship in port with a
tangle of unrelated things, invaded by unrelated shore
people, I had hardly seen her yet properly. Now, as she
lay cleared for sea, the stretch of her main-deck seemed
to me very find under the stars. Very fine, very roomy for
her size, and very inviting. I descended the poop and
paced the waist, my mind picturing to myself the coming
passage through the Malay Archipelago, down the Indian
Ocean, and up the Atlantic. All its phases were familiar
enough to me, every characteristic, all the alternatives
which were likely to face me on the high seas--every-
thing! . . . except the novel responsibility of command.
But I took heart from the reasonable thought that the
ship was like other ships, the men like other men, and
that the sea was not likely to keep any special sur-
prises expressly for my discomfiture.