I know by this time what he wants done without being told.
Do you know that I have had no order given me since we left port? Do you
know that he has never once opened his lips to me unless I spoke to him
first? I? His chief officer; his shipmate for full six years, with whom
he had no cross word--not once in all that time. Aye. Not a cross look
even. True that when I do make him speak to me, there is his dear old
self, the quick eye, the kind voice. Could hardly be other to his old
Franklin. But what's the good? Eyes, voice, everything's miles away.
And for all that I take good care never to address him when the poop
isn't clear. Yes! Only we two and nothing but the sea with us. You
think it would be all right; the only chief mate he ever had--Mr.
Franklin here and Mr. Franklin there--when anything went wrong the first
word you would hear about the decks was 'Franklin!'--I am thirteen years
older than he is--you would think it would be all right, wouldn't you?
Only we two on this poop on which we saw each other first--he a young
master--told me that he thought I would suit him very well--we two, and
thirty-one days out at sea, and it's no good! It's like talking to a man
standing on shore.
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