But it's above my register. I must try
something short and sweet: KB, urgent signal, 'Heave
all aback'; or LM, urgent, 'The berth you're now in is
not safe'; or what do you say to PQH?--'Tell my owners
the ship answers remarkably well.'"
"It's premature," I replied; "but it seems calculated
to give pain to Trent. PQH for me."
The flags were found in Trent's cabin, neatly stored
behind a lettered grating; Nares chose what he
required, and (I following) returned on deck, where the
sun had already dipped, and the dusk was coming.
"Here! don't touch that, you fool!" shouted the captain
to one of the hands, who was drinking from the scuttle-
butt. "That water's rotten!"
"Beg pardon, sir," replied the man. "Tastes quite
sweet."
"Let me see," returned Nares, and he took the dipper
and held it to his lips. "Yes, it's all right," he
said. "Must have rotted and come sweet again.--Queer,
isn't it, Mr. Dodd? Though I've known the same on a
Cape Horner."
There was something in his intonation that made me look
him in the face; he stood a little on tiptoe to look
right and left about the ship, like a man filled with
curiosity, and his whole expression and bearing
testified to some suppressed excitement.
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