By five in the afternoon we had logged 314 miles since five the
previous day, which was two over an average of thirteen knots for
twenty-four consecutive hours.
"Now take Captain Brown of the little Vampire," Mr. Pike grinned to
me, for our sailing made him good-natured. "He never would take in
until the kites an' stu'n'sails was about his ears. An' when she was
blown' her worst an' we was half-fairly shortened down, he'd turn in
for a snooze, an' say to us, 'Call me if she moderates.' Yes, and
I'll never forget the night when I called him an' told him that
everything on top the houses had gone adrift, an' that two of the
boats had been swept aft and was kindling-wood against the break of
the cabin. 'Very well, Mr. Pike,' he says, battin' his eyes and
turnin' over to go to sleep again. 'Very well, Mr. Pike,' says he.
'Watch her. An' Mr. Pike . . .' 'Yes, sir,' says I. 'Give me a
call, Mr. Pike, when the windlass shows signs of comin' aft.' That's
what he said, his very words, an' the next moment, damme, he was
snorin'.
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