Harton came in in the
afternoon with Doddy, the Captain's child, and the skipper himself
followed, so that I held quite a reception.
October 20 and 21.--Still cold, with a continual drizzle of
rain, and I have not been able to leave the cabin. This
confinement makes me feel weak and depressed. Goring came in to
see me, but his company did not tend to cheer me up much, as he
hardly uttered a word, but contented himself with staring at me in
a peculiar and rather irritating manner. He then got up and stole
out of the cabin without saying anything. I am beginning to
suspect that the man is a lunatic. I think I mentioned that his
cabin is next to mine. The two are simply divided by a thin wooden
partition which is cracked in many places, some of the cracks being
so large that I can hardly avoid, as I lie in my bunk, observing
his motions in the adjoining room. Without any wish to play the
spy, I see him continually stooping over what appears to be a chart
and working with a pencil and compasses. I have remarked the
interest he displays in matters connected with navigation, but I am
surprised that he should take the trouble to work out the course of
the ship. However, it is a harmless amusement enough, and no
doubt he verifies his results by those of the Captain.
I wish the man did not run in my thoughts so much. I had a
nightmare on the night of the 20th, in which I thought my bunk was
a coffin, that I was laid out in it, and that Goring was
endeavouring to nail up the lid, which I was frantically pushing
away.
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