Then he went on, 'But It is here, and I'll find It. It is in the hold, perhaps in one of those boxes. I'll unscrew them one by one and see. You work the helm.' And with a warning look and his finger on his lip, he went below. There was springing up a choppy wind, and I could not leave the helm.

I saw him come out on deck again with a tool chest and lantern, and go down the forward hatchway. He is mad, stark, raving mad, and it's no use my trying to stop him. He can't hurt those big boxes, they are invoiced as clay, and to pull them about is as harmless a thing as he can do. So here I stay and mind the helm, and write these notes. I can only trust in God and wait till the fog clears. Then, if I can't steer to any harbour with the wind as it is, I shall cut down the sails, and lay by, and signal for help.

It is nearly all over now. Just as I was beginning to hope that the mate would come out calmer, for I heard him knocking away at something in the hold, and work is good for him, there came up the hatchway a sudden, startled scream, which made my blood run cold, and up on the deck he came as if shot from a gun, a raging madman, with his eyes rolling and his face convulsed with fear.

Vocabulary:

Spring up: Happen suddenly
Choppy: Strong and then weak, but with no pattern
Hatchway: The stairs under a door in the floor
Stark: Clear, completely visible
Raving: Talking with great emotion but no sense
Invoiced: Listed on a sale document
Clay: Soil used to make pots
Lay by: Wait at the side
Convulse: Muscles tightening and loosening without control