Just as one cannot imagine snow and ice in the depth
of summer, so Madden could not imagine the simple comforts of life. It
seemed to him the whole world shriveled under a furnace heat.
Such heat, such congestion, he thought, might well breed sea-monsters.
After all, why should there not be a sea monster? Who could be sure that
the old megalosauri, and megalichthys were extinct? Those monsters
existed once upon a time, certainly. He was half persuaded that they
still existed.
A sea serpent!
He wondered what a sea serpent would look like? One might well drive a
man insane, cause him to leap overboard in utter horror.
His feverish brooding was interrupted by a wild flood of abuse from the
starboard deck. It was Galton's voice bellowing:
"Were is 'e? Were is that bloody Hamerican? 'E 'it me! 'It me in th' eye
for trying to 'elp 'im! You lads goin' to see me murdered for nothin'?"
Came a medley of drunken questions:
"W'ot's th' matter? Who bloodied your bloomin' eyes? W'ot 'appened?"
"That Hamerican chap!" bawled Galton savagely. "'E 'it me for 'elpin'
'im make a fire! Goin' to see me run over an' killed?"
"Faith Oi didn't see nawthin'," panted Malone, fresh from his dance
"Won't you stan' by a Hinglishman?" shouted the battered one.
"Sure we will!"
"We're Hinglish!"
"Le's 'lect 'nother hofficer an' court martial 'im!" bawled the sailor
venomously.
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