night, and he standing hard by the bulwarks, and no one by; look down there, Flask” — pointing into the sea with a peculiar motion of both hands — “Aye, will I!

Flask, I take that Fedallah to be the devil in disguise. Do you believe that cock and bull story about his having been stowed away on board ship? He’s the devil, I say. The reason why you don’t see his tail, is because he tucks it up out of sight; he carries it coiled away in his pocket, I guess. Blast him! Now that I think of it, he’s always wanting oakum to stuff into the toes of his boots.”

“He sleeps in his boots, don’t he?

He hasn’t got any hammock; but I’ve seen him lay of nights in a coil of rigging.”