Briggs
and the mate arrive on deck just in time to see Lorenson, another of
the German boys, silently throw himself into the dark ocean below.
“God
damn it,” The Captain swears, “God damn and blast!”
“Language,
Benjamin” his wife admonishes, emerging from their cabin.
“Never
mind language,” he shouts in reply, “That's the second man we've
lost to that damned siren.”
“What
siren?” she inquires.
“You
didn't hear it?” he asks cautiously. “The singing?”
“All
I've heard is you men causing a ruckus out here, threatening to wake
the baby.”
“Show's
over for the night,” the mate shouts, “Man your stations or man
your bunks.”
Once
more the crew turns in for the night, while the Captain slowly ambles
toward his cabin, lost in thought, weighed down by worry.
