88 
MOBY DICK; OR 
a voyage, without once laying my eyes on the man who was to be abso- 
lute dictator of it, so soon as the ship sailed out upon the open sea. 
But when a man suspects any wrong, it sometimes happens that if he 
be already involved in the matter, he insensibly strives to cover up his 
suspicions even from himself. And much this way it was with me. 
I said nothing, and tried to think nothing. 
At last it was given out that some time next day the ship would 
certainly sail. So next morning, Queequeg and I took a very early 
start. 
CHAPTEE XXI 
GOING ABOAKD 
It was nearly six o’clock, but only grey imperfect misty dawn, when we 
drew nigh the wharf. 
“There are some sailors running ahead there, if I see right,” said I 
to Queequeg, “it can’t be shadows; she’s off by sunrise, I guess; come 
on !” 
“Avast!” cried a voice, whose owner at the same time coming close 
behind us, laid a hand upon both our shoulders, and then insinuating 
itself between us, stood stooping forward a little, in the uncertain 
twilight, strangely peering from Queequeg to me. It was Elijah. 
“Going aboard?” 
“Hands off, will you,” said I. 
“Lookee here,” said Queequeg, shaking himself, “go ’way !” 
“Ain’t going aboard, then?” 
“Yes, we are,” said I, “but what business is that of yours ? Do you 
know, Mr. Elijah, that I consider you a little impertinent?” 
“No, no, no; I wasn’t aware of that,” said Elijah, slowly and 
wonderingly looking from me to Queequeg, with the most unaccount- 
able glances. 
“Elijah,” said I, “you oblige my friend and me by withdrawing. 
We are going to the Indian and Pacific Oceans, and would prefer 
not to be detained.” 
“Ye be, be ye ? Coming back afore breakfast?” 
“He’s cracked, Queequeg,” said I ; “come on,” 
