heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the
            shoulder of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with
            black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid
            white. I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself
            as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so
            often afterwards:</p>
            <p><a name="id380380"><!--anchor--></a>in the high, old tottering voice that