Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн

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"Let's see that line!" he said irritably. "Who made this long splice? God damn it, any soldier could make a better long splice than this. I'll find out if it takes me a month o' Sundays."

"Get the cutter overside, Mr. Rodgers," interrupted Peabody.

He walked aft again; the incident had made little impression on him save to confirm to him his already formed estimate of Rodgers' capacity. The gig which had been nested in the cutter was swayed out and deposited on the chocks of the longboat, and the cutter next rose in its slings from the Delaware's deck, traversed slowly across to leeward, and then fell into the sea. Peabody watched it as it went astern, broken backed and full of water, white among the grey of the waves, a depressing sight, and he turned back again to study the Delaware's behaviour now that she was relieved of six tons of deadweight. Peabody was not of the type to feel easy optimism. He approached the problem ready to see no appreciable difference, and yet, despite this discounting, he was forced to admit that the Delaware was moving a tiny bit more easily--the tiniest, tiniest bit. In that rough water it would give the Delaware no added speed, but it was the most he could do to ease her in her labours and still retain her efficiency. The deadweight had been taken from the point where it had most effect on the ship's behaviour--from the upper deck and forward. He glanced astern, and saw the fateful topsail on the horizon again.