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24 lines
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2.2 KiB
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24 lines
No EOL
2.2 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xmlns:epub="http://www.idpf.org/2007/ops">
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<head>
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<title>
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Moby-Dick</title><link rel="stylesheet" href="css/stylesheet.css" type="text/css"/>
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<meta charset="utf-8"/>
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</head>
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<body>
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<section class="body-rw Chapter-rw" epub:type="bodymatter chapter">
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<header>
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<h1>Chapter 43. Hark!</h1></header>
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<p>“HIST! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”</p>
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<p>It was the middle-watch; a fair moonlight; the seamen were standing in a cordon, extending from one of the fresh-water butts in the waist, to the scuttle-butt near the taffrail. In this manner, they passed the buckets to fill the scuttle-butt. Standing, for the most part, on the hallowed precincts of the quarter-deck, they were careful not to speak or rustle their feet. From hand to hand, the buckets went in the deepest silence, only broken by the occasional flap of a sail, and the steady hum of the unceasingly advancing keel.</p>
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<p>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, a Cholo, the words above.</p>
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<p>“Hist! did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”</p>
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<p>“Take the bucket, will ye, Archy? what noise d’ye mean?”</p>
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<p>“There it is again—under the hatches—don’t you hear it—a cough—it sounded like a cough.”</p>
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<p>“Cough be damned! Pass along that return bucket.”</p>
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<p>“There again—there it is!—it sounds like two or three sleepers turning over, now!”</p>
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<p>“Caramba! have done, shipmate, will ye? It’s the three soaked biscuits ye eat for supper turning over inside of ye—nothing else. Look to the bucket!”</p>
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<p>“Say what ye will, shipmate; I’ve sharp ears.”</p>
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<p>“Aye, you are the chap, ain’t ye, that heard the hum of the old Quakeress’s knitting-needles fifty miles at sea from Nantucket; you’re the chap.”</p>
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<p>“Grin away; we’ll see what turns up. Hark ye, Cabaco, there is somebody 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 Stubb tell Flask, one morning watch, that there was something of that sort in the wind.”</p>
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<p>“Tish! the bucket!”</p>
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</section></body></html> |