A shock of dishevelled red hair, a lean lantern-jawed face, desperately pallid; these were followed by a long crane-neck, and this again was continued by a pair of shoulders of such endless declivity as surely was never seen but in dreams.

And still, as the genie from the fisherman's bottle, the apparition evolved itself and ascended, nor ceased growing until it overlooked the Captain's shoulder by a good three-fourths of a yard, when it put out two hands as if seeking support and stood swaying, with a vague, uneasy smile.
"D'ye hear me ?" thundered the Captain, leaning forward over the ladder.
"Ay, ay, sir," Ben Jope answered cheerfully.
"Then what the '-- ' are ye staring at, you son of a '-- '?
Like a stuck pig, '-- ' you! Like a clock-face! Like a glass-eyed cat in a '-- ' thunderstorm! Like a--" Here, as Captain Crang drew breath to reload, so to speak, a slight yawing of the ship (for which the helmsman might be forgiven) brought the tall shadow of the apparition athwart his shoulder, and fetched him about with an oath.
"Eh?
So _there_ you are!" Mr.Wapshott, still with his vague smile, titubated a moment, advanced with a sort of circumspect dancing motion to the rail of the poop, laid two shaking hands upon it, heaved a long sigh, and nodded affably.
"_Tha's_ all right.

Where else ?" "Look there, sir!" Captain Crang wagged a forefinger at the crowd in the scuppers.

"I want your explanation of _that!_" Mr.Wapshott brought his gaze to bear on the point indicated; but not until he had scanned successively the deck gratings, the rise of the forecastle and the main shrouds.
"Re-markable," he answered slowly.

"Mos' remarkable.