Collected works > Edinburgh edition, 1894-98 - Works of Robert Louis Stevenson > Volume 20, 1896 - Travels and excursion, Volume III

THE EBB-TIDE
of the Farallone level with the foam, he laughed
out an empty laugh, drained his glass, sprawled back
among the lumber in the boat, and fetched out a
crumpled novel.
Herrick watched him, and his indignation glowed
red-hot. He glanced to windward, where the squall
already whitened the near sea and heralded its
coming with a singular and dismal sound. He
glanced at the steersman and saw him clinging to
the spokes with a face of a sickly blue. He saw the
crew were running to their stations without orders.
And it seemed as if something broke in his brain ;
and the passion of anger, so long restrained, so long
eaten in secret, burst suddenly loose and shook
him like a sail. He stepped across to the captain
and smote his hand heavily on the drunkard's
shoulder.
'You brute,' he said, in a voice that tottered,
' look behind you ! '
' Wha 's that ? ' cried Davis, bounding in the boat
and upsetting the champagne.
'You lost the Sea Ranger because you were a
drunken sot,' said Herrick. ' Now you 're going to
lose the Farallone. You 're going to drown here
the same way as you drowned others, and be damned.
And your daughter shall walk the streets, and your
sons be thieves like their father.'
For the moment the words struck the captain
white and foolish. ' My God ! ' he cried, looking
at Herrick as upon a ghost ; ' my God, Herrick ! '
' Look behind you, then ! ' reiterated the assailant.
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