I heard his voice--a rather rich, full baritone--addressing the second mate, but could not distinguish what was said, at that distance and among the multitudinous noises of the straining ship; and a few minutes later the door opposite my own, on the other side of the cabin, opened, and Monsieur Leroy, the chief mate of the ship--to whose slackness of discipline I was chiefly indebted for being run down during the previous night--emerged and followed his chief out on deck.  I recognised him in part by his figure, and in part by the fact that he was evidently an occupant of one of the state-rooms adjoining the main cabin, which would only be assigned to an officer of rank and consideration.  As I now gained a momentary glimpse of him he appeared to be about thirty-seven years of age, broadly built, his features almost hidden by the thickly growing beard, whiskers, and moustache that adorned them, and out of which gleamed and flashed a pair of resolute but good-natured eyes as black as the bushy eyebrows that overshadowed them.  He was dressed in a coat and pair of trousers of fine, dark-blue cloth, and, like the captain, wore no waistcoat.  His shirt, thus exposed, however, unlike that of his superior, was made of coarse linen woven with a narrow blue stripe in it.  Also, like his captain, he wore no stockings on his slippered feet.