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CHAPTER XIV
THE CELESTINE PLAYS HER PART
HE'S a deader," said one of the men, pulling off his watch-cap.
"No, he ain't," said another. "He's warm."
"But look at his eyes," said the first. "They ain't right."
"Where's the old man?" inquired one.
"Skipper's taking a watch below, arter the fog; don't yer go knockin' him up now, Joe."
"Wait till the mate comes. Thunder, why don't yer wrop somep'n round the kid, you loon?"
The big schooner was getting under way again. The mate's voice spoke sharply to the helmsman.
"Helm up—steady. Nothing off—stead-y."
Then he left the quarter-deck and strode rapidly down to the little group amidships. He was a tall man, with a brown, angular face, and deep-set, rather melancholy, blue eyes. His
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