Explore "Honor of Thieves" by Cutcliffe Hyne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Eight bells-midnight.
The look-out in the crow's-nest forward chanted his last melancholy "All's well! " and gave way to the relief from the next watch. He climbed down by the cleats in the iron mast, and went to the starboard door in the forecastle. Other men followed him, jumping like cats along the streaming decks; and others came a little later-dingy fellows with neckclouts like dishcloths, who went in at the port door; these last being the goats of shipboard, the firemen and trimmers, who were divided off from the more high-caste deck-hands by a fore-and-aft bulkhead.