I was sitting, that afternoon, at the head of the mahogany swing table (just as you might be sitting now, sir) with my back to the light and the midmost of the three windows wide open behind me, for air.

I had the ship's chart spread before me when my second mate, Mr.Orchard, knocked at the door with word that all was ready to cast off.

I asked him a few necessary questions, and while he stood there chatting I heard a splash just under my window.
Well, that might have been anything--a warp cast off and the slack of it striking the water, we'll say.

Whatever it was, I heard it, turned about, and with one knee on the window-locker (I remember it perfectly) took a glance out astern.

I saw nothing to account for the sound: but I knew of a dozen things which might account for it-- anything, in fact, down to some lazy cabin-boy heaving the dinner-scraps overboard: and having, as you'll understand, a dozen matters on my mind at the moment, I thought no more of it, but turned to Mr.Orchard again and picked up our talk.