All the Tea in China

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I had been frightened many times since I started my sea-voyage but always by the rage of winds and waters, dangers I could not properly comprehend and which I could do nothing about. Moreover, the Captain and the ship’s company clearly could comprehend and partly govern them, so even when I was most terrified I had some comfort and knew that I was not alone.

This, now, was different. I was very much alone. Never before had I seen, glaring from the eyes of another man, the clear intention to kill me and the certain knowledge that he could. There is no lonelier terror.

The belaying-pin — fourteen inches of greenheart — whirred past my ear and ripped through the mizzen course with a noise like a pistol-shot. Lubbock moved along the rail, his eyes fastened on me, his hand feeling for another pin.

The Captain’s voice rasped from the poop: “Fined one shilling for damage to sails, Mister Mate, and eightpence for wantonly losing one belaying-pin overboard.”

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