Three glass ports
admitted light. A table in the center of the room spread over with a
Mercator's projection showed that Malone dutifully pricked the
_Vulcan's_ course on the chart, although it was not required of
him. A sextant and quadrant told the American that the stolid Briton
worked out his own reckonings. The sight of these things filled the boy
with a respect for the uncouth fellow. He understood how doggedly Malone
must have labored to acquire mastery over the instruments of navigation.
Beyond this there were a number of flaring chromos on the walls, a
decanter of wine and glasses in a chest. He found what he was looking for
in the desk drawer, a roll of men checked off for watches. The coming
night was arranged for, but for morning, the names of Heck Mulcher, Ben
Galton and Caradoc Smith stood in order. Madden was just marking these
men when there was a tap at the door.
Upon call, Gaskin, the cook, entered, bearing a big tray of dishes, "Yer
dinner, sir," he said, very respectfully.
Madden had not anticipated having the mate's meals served to him, and
for a moment he came near asking the cook if he had not made a mistake;
but the steaming tray and the pleasant odors kept the question unspoken.
Only with this diet before him did he realize that he had been fairly
starving on the poor ship's rations.
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