'"
He gasped with pure delight of sound.
"That's better than Byron, a little," I ventured.
"Better? Why it's true! How could he have known?"
I went back and repeated:
"'What was that?' said Olaf, standing
On the quarter-deck,
'Something heard I like the stranding
Of a shattered wreck.'"
"How could he have known how the ships crash and the oars rip out and go z-zzp
all along the line? Why only the other night--But go back please and read 'The
Skerry of Shrieks' again."
"No, I'm tired. Let's talk. What happened the other night?"
"I had an awful nightmare about that galley of ours. I dreamed I was drowned
in a fight. You see we ran alongside another ship in harbor. The water was
dead still except where our oars whipped it up. You know where I always sit in
the galley?" He spoke haltingly at first, under a fine English fear of being
laughed at.
"No. That's news to me," I answered, meekly, my heart beginning to beat.
"On the fourth oar from the bow on the right side on the upper deck. There
were four of us at the oar, all chained. I remember watching the water and
trying to get my handcuffs off before the row began. Then we closed up on the
other ship, and all their fighting men jumped over our bulwarks, and my bench
broke and I was pinned down with the three other fellows on top of me, and the
big oar jammed across our backs.
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