'Now your hands above your head.' The clerk turned away from him and towards the figure-head, as though he were about to address to it his devotions; he was seen to heave a deep breath; and raised his arms.

In common with many men of his unhappy physical endowments, Huish's hands were disproportionately long and broad, and the palms in particular enormous; a four-ounce jar was nothing in that capacious fist.

The next moment he was plodding steadily forward on his mission.
Herrick at first followed.

Then a noise in his rear startled him, and he turned about to find Davis already advanced as far as the figure-head.
He came, crouching and open-mouthed, as the mesmerised may follow the mesmeriser; all human considerations, and even the care of his own life, swallowed up in one abominable and burning curiosity.
'Halt!' cried Herrick, covering him with his rifle.

'Davis, what are you doing, man?
YOU are not to come.' Davis instinctively paused, and regarded him with a dreadful vacancy of eye.
'Put your back to that figure-head, do you hear me?
and stand fast!' said Herrick.
The captain fetched a breath, stepped back against the figure-head, and instantly redirected his glances after Huish.
There was a hollow place of the sand in that part, and, as it were, a glade among the cocoa palms in which the direct noonday sun blazed intolerably.