Hark!
"HIST! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?
It was the middle-watch: a fair moonlight; the seamen werestanding in a cordon, extending from one of the fresh-water butts inthe waist, to the scuttle-butt near the taffrail. In this manner, theypassed the buckets to fill the scuttle-butt. Standing, for the mostpart, on the hallowed precincts of the quarter-deck, they were carefulnot to speak or rustle their feet. From hand to hand, the buckets wentin the deepest silence, only broken by the occasional flap of asail, and the steady hum of the unceasingly advancing keel.
It was in the midst of this repose, that Archy, one of the cordon,whose post was near the after-hatches, whispered to his neighbor, aCholo, the words above.
"Hist! did you hear that noise, Cabaco?"
"Take the bucket, will ye, Archy? what noise d'ye mean?""There it is again- under the hatches- don't you hear it- a cough-it sounded like a cough."
"Cough be damned! Pass along that return bucket.""There again- there it is!- it sounds like two or three sleepersturning over, now!"
"Caramba! have done, shipmate, will ye? It's the three soakedbiscuits ye eat for supper turning over inside of ye- nothing else.
Look to the bucket!"
"Say what ye will, shipmate; I've sharp ears.""Aye, you are the chap, ain't ye, that heard the hum of the oldQuakeress's knitting-needles fifty miles at sea from Nantucket; you'rethe chap."
"Grin away; we'll see what turns up. Hark ye, Cabaco, there issomebody down in the after-hold that has not yet been seen on deck;and I suspect our old Mogul knows something of it too. I heard Stubbtell Flask, one morning watch, that there was something of that sortin the wind."
"Tish! the bucket!"
