This created what is called boiling water, that is, a contest
between the wind forcing the waves one way, and the tide checking them
the other, which makes the waves to lose their run, and they rise, and
dance, and bubble into points. The consequence was, that the boat, as
she was borne down by the tide against them, shipped a sea every moment,
which the wind threw against the carcass of the corporal, who was now
quite exhausted with more than four hours' exposure to a wintry night,
the temperature being nearly down to zero. All the corporal's stoicism
was gone; he talked wildly, crouched and gibbered in his fear, when he
was suddenly roused by a heavy shock. He raised his head, which had sunk
upon his chest, and beheld something close to him, and to the gunnel of
the boat. It was a thin, tall figure, holding out his two arms at right
angles, and apparently stooping over him. It was just in the position
that Smallbones lay on the forecastle of the cutter on that day morning,
when he was about to keel-haul him, and the corporal, in his state of
mental and bodily depression, was certain that it was the ghost of the
poor lad whom he had so often tortured.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244