He knew both the men who had been speaking; they were respectable folks, and the one besides had had the news from the aunt herself.
There was hard work that day on board, but his hands were as if they had been benumbed.

It was impossible for him to give any assistance, except in appearance, when any hauling was to be done;--he did everything mechanically.
"Are you sick, lad, or longing after your sweetheart ?" said the mate to him in the course of the afternoon.

He saw that there was something wrong with him.
That last, "after your sweetheart," had a wonderfully rousing influence.
He felt himself all at once relieved of his heavy feeling of exhaustion, and worked now so hard that the perspiration poured down his face, joining in the hauling song from time to time with a wild, unnatural energy: he was afraid to leave himself a moment for thought.

When the day was over, however, he took the anchor watch for a comrade, who was overjoyed at the unexpected prospect of getting a quiet night in his hammock, and at escaping from his turn of "ship's dog"-- that watch consisting of one man only, whose business it is to keep the ship from harbour-thieves.
He paced up and down the deck alone in the pitchy darkness, that was only relieved by a lantern or two out in the harbour, and a light here and there up in the town--sometimes standing for long minutes together, with his cheek on his hand, leaning on the railing.

He could, without the slightest scruple, murder young Beck--that he felt.
At two o'clock he crossed over to the boards that were sloped against the vessel's side, slid down them in the dark to the slip, and from there made his way ashore.