This astonishing occurrence was so present to his mind that he always
felt as though he were there under false pretences. And this feeling was
so uncomfortable that it nerved him to break through the awe-inspiring
aloofness of his captain. He wanted to make a clean breast of it. I
imagine that his youth stood in good stead to Mr. Powell. Oh, yes. Youth
is a power. Even Captain Anthony had to take some notice of it, as if it
refreshed him to see something untouched, unscarred, unhardened by
suffering. Or perhaps the very novelty of that face, on board a ship
where he had seen the same faces for years, attracted his attention.
Whether one day he dropped a word to his new second officer or only
looked at him I don't know; but Mr. Powell seized the opportunity
whatever it was. The captain who had started and stopped in his
everlasting rapid walk smoothed his brow very soon, heard him to the end
and then laughed a little.
"Ah! That's the story. And you felt you must put me right as to this."
"Yes, sir."
"It doesn't matter how you came on board," said Anthony.
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