And then I told him the whole
truth of the affair. After I had done that, I explained my idea about
it, to him.
"Now you see what I mean?" I asked.
"You mean that this strange atmosphere--or whatever it is--we're in,
would not allow us to see another ship?" he asked, a bit awestruck.
"Yes," I said. "But the point I wanted you to see, is that if we can't
see another vessel, even when she's quite close, then, in the same way,
we shouldn't be able to see land. To all intents and purposes we're
blind. Just you think of it! We're out in the middle of the briny, doing
a sort of eternal blind man's hop. The Old Man couldn't put into port,
even if he wanted to. He'd run us bang on shore, without our ever seeing
it."
"What are we going to do, then?" he asked, in a despairing sort of way.
"Do you mean to say we can't do anything? Surely something can be done!
It's terrible!"
For perhaps a minute, we walked up and down, in the light from the
different lanterns. Then he spoke again.
"We might be run down, then," he said, "and never even see the other
vessel?"
"It's possible," I replied.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189