Deep Waters, the Entire Collection

It was colder than ever. The cold seemed to get into my bones, but I made up my mind to ‘ave that twelve quid if I died for it. I trod round and round the place where I ‘ad seen that purse chucked in until I was tired, and the rubbish I picked up by mistake you wouldn’t believe.

I suppose I ‘ad been in there arf an hour, and I was standing up with my teeth clenched to keep them from chattering, when I ‘appened to look round and see something like a white ball coming down the ladder. My ‘art seemed to stand still for a moment, and then it began to beat as though it would burst. The white thing came down lower and lower, and then all of a sudden it stood in the mud and said, “Ow!”

“Who is it?” I ses. “Who are you?” “Halloa, Bill!” it ses. “Ain’t it perishing cold?”

It was the voice o’ Cap’n Fogg, and if ever I wanted to kill a fellow- creetur, I wanted to then.

“‘Ave you been in long, Bill?” he ses. “About ten minutes,” I ses, grinding my teeth.

“Is it doing you good?” he ses.

I didn’t answer ‘im.

“I was just going off to sleep,” he ses, “when I felt a sort of hot pain in my left knee. O’ course, I knew what it meant at once, and instead o’ taking some of the pellets I thought I’d try your remedy instead. It’s a bit nippy, but I don’t mind that if it does me good.”

He laughed a silly sort o’ laugh, and then I’m blest if ‘e didn’t sit down in that mud and waller in it. Then he’d get up and come for’ard two or three steps and sit down agin.

“Ain’t you sitting down, Bill?” he ses, arter a time.

“No,” I ses, “I’m not.”

“I don’t think you can expect to get the full benefit unless you do,” he ses, coming up close to me and sitting down agin. “It’s a bit of a shock at fust, but Halloa!”

“Wot’s up?” I ses.

“Sitting on something hard,” he ses. “I wish people ‘ud be more careful.”

He took a list to port and felt under the star-board side. Then he brought his ‘and up and tried to wipe the mud off and see wot he ‘ad got.

“Wot is it?” I ses, with a nasty sinking sort o’ feeling inside me.

“I don’t know,” he ses, going on wiping. “It’s soft outside and ‘ard inside. It–”

“Let’s ‘ave a look at it,” I ses, holding out my ‘and.

“It’s nothing,” he ses, in a queer voice, getting up and steering for the ladder. “Bit of oyster-shell, I think.”

He was up that ladder hand over fist, with me close behind ‘im, and as soon as he ‘ad got on to the wharf started to run to ‘is ship.

“Good night, Bill,” he ses, over ‘is shoulder.

“Arf a moment.” I ses, follering ‘im.

“I must get aboard,” he ses; “I believe I’ve got a chill,” and afore I could stop ‘im he ‘ad jumped on and run down to ‘is cabin.

I stood on the jetty for a minute or two, trembling all over with cold and temper. Then I saw he ‘ad got a light in ‘is cabin, and I crept aboard and peeped down the skylight. And I just ‘ad time to see some sovereigns on the table, when he looked up and blew out the light.

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