“Good! he will travel slower now ’tis night. Down royals and topgallant stun-sails, Mr. Starbuck. We must not run over him before morning; he’s making a passage now, and may heave-to a while. Helm there! keep her full before the wind!⁠—Aloft! come down!⁠— Mr. Stubb, send a fresh hand to the foremast head, and see it manned till morning.”⁠—Then advancing towards the doubloon in the mainmast⁠—“Men, this gold is mine, for I earned it; but I shall let it abide here till the White Whale is dead; and then, whosoever of ye first raises him, upon the day he shall be killed, this gold is that man’s; and if on that day I shall again raise him, then, ten times its sum shall be divided among all of ye! Away now!⁠—the deck is thine, sir!”

And so saying, he placed himself halfway within the scuttle, and slouching his hat, stood there till dawn, except when at intervals rousing himself to see how the night wore on.