 CHAPTER XXI I don't design to wear you with a close account of our proceedings. How we opened the main deck hatch, rigged up tackles, clapping purchases onto the falls, as the capstan was hard-frozen and immovable. How we hoisted the powder barrels on deck, and them, by tackles on the four-yard, lowered them over the side. How we filled a number of bags which we found in the forecastle with powder. How we measured the cracks in the ice and sought a couple of spare-studding sail-booms into lengths to serve as beams, whereby to poise the barrels and bags, would make but sailors' talk, half of which would be unintelligible and the rest weary some. The Frenchman worked hard, and we snatched only half an hour for our dinner. The split that had happened in the ice during the night showed by daylight as a gulf betwixt eight and ten feet wide at the seaward's end, thinning to a width of three feet, nevertheless, to where it ended ahead of the ship, in a hundred cracks in the ice that showed as if a thunderbolt had fallen just there. I looked into this rent, but it was as black as a well past a certain depth, and there was no gleam of water. When we went over the side to roll our first barrel of powder to the spot where we meant to lower it, the Frenchman marched up to the figure of Trentonove, and with no more reverence than a boy would show in throwing a stone at a jackass, tumbled him into the chasm. He then stepped up to the body of the Portuguese boatswain, dragged him to the same fissure, and rolled him into it. There, cried he, now they are properly buried, and with this he went coolly on with his work. I said nothing, but was secretly heartily disgusted with this brutal disposal of his miserable shipmate's remains. However, it was his doing not mine, and I confess the removal of those silent witnesses was a very great relief to me. Albeit when I considered how Tassard had been awakened, and how both the mate and the boatswain might have been brought to by treatment, I felt as though, after a manner, the Frenchman had committed a murder by burying them so. It blew a small breeze all day from the south-west, the weather keeping fine. It was ten o'clock in the morning when we started on our labour, and the sun had been sunk a few minutes by the time we rigged the last whip for the lowering and poisoning of the powder. This left us nothing to do in the morning but light the matches, lower the powder into position, and then withdraw to the schooner and await the issue. Our arrangements comprised, first, four barrels of powder in the deep yons ahead of the vessel, directly a thwart the line of her head, second, two barrels, a wide space between them, in the great chasm on the starboard side, third, about fifty very heavy charges in bags, and the like for the further rupturing of many splits and crevices on the larboard bow of the ship, where the ice was most compact. What should follow the mighty blast no mortal being could have foretold? I had no fear of the charges injuring the vessel, that is to say, I did not fear that the actual explosion would damage her, but as the effect of the bursting of such a mass of powder as we designed to explode, upon so brittle a substance as ice was not calculable, it was quite likely that the vast discharge, instead of loosening and freeing the bed of ice, might rend it into blocks and leave the schooner still stranded and lying in some wild posture amid the ruins. But the powder was our only trumps, we had but to play it and leave the rest to fortune. We got our supper and sat smoking and discussing our situation and chances. Tassard was tired, and this and our contemplation of the probabilities of the morrow sobered his mind, and he talked with a certain gravity. He drank sparely and forbore the hideous recollections or interventions he was used to bestow on me, and indeed could find nothing to talk about but the explosion and what it was to do for us. I was very glad he did not again refer to his project to bury the treasure and carry the schooner to the tortugas. The subject fired his blood, and it was such nonsense that the mere naming of it was nauseous to me. Eight and forty years had passed since his ship fell in with this ice, and not tenfold the treasure in the hold might have purchased for him the sight of so much as a single bone of the youngest of those associates whom he idly dreamt of seeking and shipping and sailing in command of. Yet imbecile as was his scheme, having regard to the half-century that had elapsed, I clearly witnessed the menace to me that it implied. His views were to be read as plainly as if he had delivered them. First and foremost he meant that I should help him to sail the schooner to an island and bury the plate and money, which done he would take the first opportunity to murder me. His chance of meeting with a ship that would lend him assistance to navigate the schooner would be as good as if he were alone in her as if I were on board, too. There would be nothing, then, in this consideration to hinder him from cutting my throat after we had buried the treasure and were got north. Two motives would imperatively urge him to make away with me. First that I should not be able to serve as a witness to his being a pirate, and next that he alone should possess the secret of the treasure. He little knew what was passing in my mind as he surveyed me through the curls of smoke spouting up from his death's head pipe. I talked easily and confidentially, but I saw in his gaze the eyes of my murderer, and was so sure of his intentions that had I shot him in self-defense as he sat there I am certain my conscience would have acquitted me of his blood. I passed two most uneasy hours in my cot before closing my eyes. I could think of nothing but how to secure myself against the Frenchman's treachery. You would suppose that my mind must have been engrossed with considerations of the several possibilities of the moral, but that was not so. My reflections ran wholly to the bald-headed, evil-eyed pirate whom in an evil hour I had thought into being, and who was like to discharge the debt of his own life by taking mine. The truth is I had been too hard at work all day, too full of the business of planning, cutting, testing, and contriving to find leisure to dwell upon what he had set at breakfast, and now that I lay alone in the darkness it was the only subject I could settle my thoughts to. However, next morning I found myself less gloomy thanks to several hours of solid sleep. I thought, what is the good of anticipating? Suppose the schooner is crushed by the ice or jammed by the explosion. Until we are under way, nay, until the treasure is buried, I have nothing to fear, for the rogue cannot do without me. And reassuring myself in this fashion, I went to the cookroom and lighted the fire. My companion presently arrived, and we sat down to our morning meal. I dreamt last night, said he, that the devil sat on my breast and told me that we should break clear of the ice and come off safe with the treasure. There is loyalty in the fiend, he seldom betrays his friends. You have a better opinion of him than I, said I, and I do not know that you have much claim upon his loyalty, either, seeing that you will cross yourself and call upon the Madonna and Saints when the occasion arises. Poo, mere habit, cried he sarcastically. I have seen barrows praying to a little wooden saint in a gale of wind and then knock its head off and throw it overboard because the storm increased. And here he fell to talking very impiously, professing such an outrageous contempt for every form of religion, and affirming so ardent a belief in the goodwill of Satan and the like, that I quitted my bench at last in a passion, and told him that he must be the devil himself to talk so, and that for my part his sentiments awoken me nothing but the utmost scorn, loathing, and horror of him. His face fell, and he looked at me with the eye of one who takes measure of another, and does not feel sure. Tucked, cried he, with a feigned peevishness, what are my sentiments to you, or yours to me? You may be a quaker for all I care. Come, fill your panic in, and let us drink a health to our own souls. But though he said this grinning, he shot a savage look of malice at me, and when he put his panic in down his face was very clouded and sulky. We finished our meal in silence, and then I rose, saying, Let us now see what the gunpowder is going to do for us. My rising and saying this worked a change in him. He exclaimed briskly, I, now for the great experiment, and made for the companion steps, with an air of bustle. The wind as before was in the southwest, blowing without much weight. But the sky was overcast with great masses of white clouds, with a tint of rainbows in their shoulders and skirts, amid which the sky showed in a clear, liquid blue. Those clouds seemed to promise wind, and perhaps snow anon. But there was nothing to hinder our operations. We got upon the ice, and went to work to fix the matches to the barrels and bags. And to sling them by the beams we had contrived ready for lowering when the matches were fired. And this occupied us the best part of two hours. When all was ready I fired the first match, and we lowered the barrels smartly to the scope of line we had settled upon, so with the others. You may reckon we worked with all imaginable weariness, for the stuff we handled was mighty deadly, and if a barrel should fall and burst with the match alight we might be blown in an instant into rags, it being impossible to tell how deep the rents went. The bags being lighter there was less to fear, and presently all the barrels and bags, with the matches burning, were poised in the places and hanging at the depth we had fixed upon. And we returned to the schooner, the Frenchman breaking into a run and tumbling over the rail in his alarm with the dexterity of a monkey. Each match was supposed to burn an hour, so that when the several explosions happened they might all occur as nearly as possible at once, and we had therefore a long time to wait. The margin may look unreasonable in the face of our dispatch, but you will not think it unnecessary if you consider that our machinery might not have worked very smooth, and that meanwhile all that was lowered was in the way of exploding. So interminable a period as now followed I do believe never before entered into the experiences of a man. The cold was intense and we had to move about, but also were we repeatedly coming to a halt to look at our watches and cast our eyes over the ice. It was like standing under a gallows with the noose around the neck waiting for the cart to move off. My own suspense became torture, but I commanded my face. The Frenchman, on the other hand, could not control the torments of his expectation and fear. Only Virgin, he would cry, suppose we are blown up, too! Suppose we are engulfed in the ice! Suppose it should be vomited in vast blocks, which in falling upon us must crush us to a pulp and smash the dexine! At one moment he would call himself an idiot for not remaining on the rocks at a distance and watching the explosion, and even make as if to jump off of the vessel, then immediately recoil from the idea of setting his foot upon a floor that before he could take ten strides might split into chasms with hideous uproar under him. At another moment he would run to the companion and descend out of my sight but reappear after a minute or two wildly shaking his head and swearing that if waiting was insupportable in the daylight it was ten thousand times worse in the gloom and solitude of the interior. I was too nervous and expectant myself to be affected by his behavior, but his dread of the explosion upheaving lumps of ice was sensible enough to determine me to post myself under the cover of the hatch and there await the blast, for it was a stout cover and would certainly screen me from the lighter flying pieces. It was three or four minutes past the hour and I was looking breathlessly at my watch when the first of the explosions took place. Before the ear could well receive the shock of the blast the whole of the barrels exploded along with some twelve or fourteen parcels. Tassard, who stood beside me, fell on his face and I believed he had been killed. It was so hellish a thunder that I suppose the blowing up of a first rate could not make a more frightful roar of noise. A kind of twilight was caused by the rise of the volumes of white smoke out of the ice. The schooner shook with such a convulsion that I was persuaded she had been split. Vast showers of splinters of ice fell as if from the sky and rained like arrows through the smoke, but if there were any great blocks uphove they did not touch the ship. Meanwhile the other parcels were exploding in their places sometimes two and three at a time, sending a sort of sickening spasms and throws through the fabric of the vessel, and you heard the most extraordinary grinding noises rising out of the ice all about, as though the mighty rupture of the powder crackled through leagues of the island. I durst not look forth till all the powder had burst lest I should be struck by some flying piece of ice, but unless the schooner was injured below she was as sound as before and in the exact same posture, as if a float in harbour, only that of course her stern lay low with the slope of her bed. I called to Tassard and he lifted his head. Are you hurt, said I? No, no, he answered, tease a spaniard's streak to fling down to a broadside. Body of St. Joseph, what a furious explosion! And so saying he crawled into the companion and squatted beside me. What has it done for us? I don't know yet, said I, but I believe the schooner is uninjured. That was a powerful shock I cried as a half-dozen of bags blew up together in the crevices deep down. The thunder and tumult of the rending ice, accompanied by the heavy explosions of the gunpowder, so dulled the hearing that it was difficult to speak. That the mines had accomplished our end was not yet to be known, but there could not be the least doubt that they had not only occasioned tremendous ruptures low down in the ice, but that the volcanic influence was extending far beyond its first effects, by making one split produce another, one weak part give way and create other weaknesses, and so on, all round about us and under our keel, as was clearly to be gathered by the shivering and spasms of the schooner, and by the growls, roars, blasts, and huddle of terrifying sounds which arose from the frozen floor. It was twenty minutes after the hour at which the mines had been framed to explode when the last parcel burst, but we waited another quarter of an hour to make sure that it was the last, during all which time the growling and roaring noises deep down continued, as if there was a battle of a thousand lions raging in the vaults and hollows underneath. The smoke had been settled away by the wind and the prospect was clear. We ran below to see the fire and receive five minutes of heat into our chilled bodies, and then return to view the scene. I looked first over the starboard side and saw the great split that had happened in the night torn in places into immense yawns and gulfs by the fall of vast masses of rock out of its sides, but what most delighted me was the hollow sound of washing water. I lifted my hand and listened, tis the swell of the sea flowing into the opening, I exclaimed. That means, said Tessard, that this side of the block is dislocated from the main. Yes, cried I, and if the powder ahead of the boughs has done its work, the heave of the ocean will do the rest. We made our way onto the forecastle over a deep bed of splinters of ice lying like wood shavings upon the deck, and I took notice as I walked that every glorious crystal pendant that had before adorned the yards, rigging, and spars had been shaken off. I had expected to see a wonderful spectacle of havoc in the ice where the barrels of gunpowder had been poised, but saving many scores of cracks where none was before, and vast ragged gashes in the mouths of the crevices down which the barrels had been lowered, the scene was as much as here to fore. The Frenchman stared and exclaimed, What has the powder done? I see only a few cracks. What it may have done, I don't know, I answered, but depend on such heavy charges of powder must have burst to some purpose. The dislocation will be below, and so much the better, for tis there the ice must come asunder if this block is to go free. He gazed about him, and then, wrapping out a string of oaths, English, Italian, and French, for he swore in all the languages he spoke, which he once told me were five. He declared that for his part he considered the powder wasted, that we'd have done as well to fling a hand-grenade into a fissure, that a thousand barrels of powder would be but as a pop-gun for rending the schooner's bed from the main, and, in short, with several insulting looks, and a face black with rage and disappointment, gave me very plainly to know that I had not only played the fool myself, but had made a fool of him, and that he was heartily sorry he had ever given himself any trouble to contrive the cursed minds or assist me in a ridiculous project that might have resulted in blowing the schooner to pieces and ourselves with it. I glanced at him with a sneer, but took no further notice of his insolence. It was not only that he was so contemptible in all respects, a liar, a rogue, a thief, a paltrune, whorey and twenty walks of vice. There was something so unearthly about a creature that had been as good as dead for eight and forty years, that it was impossible anything he said could affect me as the rancorous tongue of another man would. I feared and hated him because I knew that in intent he was already my assassin, but the mere insolences of so incredible a creature could not but find me imperturbable. And perhaps in the present instance my own disappointment put me into some small posture of sympathy with his passion. Had I been asked before the explosions happened what I expected, I don't know that I should have found any answer to make, and yet, though I could not have expressed my expectations which, after all, were but hopes, I was bitterly vexed when I looked over the bows and found in the scene nothing that appeared answerable to the uncommon forces we had employed. Nevertheless, I felt sure that my remark to the Frenchman was a great show of up-hove rocks and fragments of ice might have satisfied the eye, but the real work of the minds was wanted below, and since the force of the mighty explosion must needs expend itself somewhere, it was absurd to wish to see its effects in a part where its volcanic agency would be of little or no use. There is nothing to be seen by staring, exclaimed the Frenchman presently, speaking very sullenly, I am hungry and freezing and shall go below, and with that he turned his back and made off, growling in his throat as he went. I got upon the ice and stepped very carefully to the starboard side and looked down the vast split there. The sea in consequence of the slope did not come far, but I could hear the wash of the water very plain. It was certain that the valley in which we lay was wholly disconnected from the main ice on this side. I passed to the larboard quarter, and here, too, were cracks wide and deep enough to satisfy me that its hold was weak. It was forward of the boughs where the barrels had been exploded that the ice was thickest and had the firmest grasp, but its surface was so violently and heavily cracked by the explosions, and I thought to myself if the fissures below are as numerous, then certainly the swell of the sea ought to fetch the whole mass away. But I was now half frozen myself and pining for warmth. It was after one o'clock, the wind was piping freshly, and the great heavy clouds and swarms drove stately across the sky. It may blow to-night, thought I, and if the wind hangs as it is, just such a sea as may do our business will be set running, and thus musing I entered the ship and went below. CHAPTER 22 OF THE FROSEN PIRATE This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Barbara Dirksen. The Frozen Pirate by W. Clark Russell. CHAPTER 22 A CHANGE COMES OVER THE FRENCHMAN. Tassard was dogged and scowling. Such was his temper that had I been a small or weak man, or a person likely to prove submissive, he would have given a loose to his foul tongue and may be handled me very roughly. But my demeanor was cold and resolved, and not of a kind to improve his courage. I leveled a deliberate semi-contemptuous gaze at his own fiery stare, and puzzled him too, I believe, a good deal by my cool reserve. He muttered whilst we ate, drinking plentifully of wine, and garnishing his draughts with oaths and to spare, and then, after, falling silent and remaining so for the space of twenty minutes, during which I lighted my pipe and sat with my feet close to the furnace, listening with eager ears to the sounds of the ice and the dull crying of the wind. He exclaimed soquely, Your scheme is a failure! The schooner is fixed! What's to be done now? I don't know that my scheme is a failure, said I. What did you suppose? That the blast would blow the ice with the schooner on it into the ocean clear of the island? If the ice is so shaken as to enable the swell to detach it, my scheme will have accomplished all I proposed. If, he cried scornfully and passionately, if will not deliver us nor save the treasure, I tell you, the schooner is fixed, is fixed as the damned in everlasting fire, be it so! he cried, clenching his fist. But you must meddle no more. The Boca del Dragon is mine, mine, do you see? Now that they're all dead and gone but me, smiting his bosom, and if ever she is to float, let nature or the devil launch her. No more explosions with the risks your failure has made her and me run. His voice sank. He looked at me in silence, and then, with a wild grin of anger, he exclaimed, What made you awake me? I was at peace, neither cold, hungry, nor hopeless. What demon forced you to bring me to these, to bring me back to these? Mr. Tassard, said I, coldly. I don't ask your pardon for my experiment. I meant well. And to my mind it is no failure yet. But for disturbing your repose I do sincerely beg your forgiveness, and solemnly promise you, if you will return to the state in which I found you, that I will not repeat the offence. He eyed me, from top to toe, in silence, filled and lighted his hideous pipe, and smoked with his back turned upon me. Had there been another warm place in the schooner, I should have retired to it, and left this surly and scandalous savage to the enjoyment of his own company. His temper rendered me extremely uneasy. The arms-room was full of weapons. He might draw a pistol upon me and shoot me dead before I should have time to clench my hand. Nor did I conceive him to have his right mind. His panic terrors and outbursts of rage were such extremes of behaviour as suggested some sort of organic decay within. He had been for eight and forty years insensible. In all that time the current of life had been frozen in him, not dried up and extinguished, therefore, taking his age to be fifty-five when the frost seized him, he would now be one hundred and three years old, having subsisted into this great span of time in fact, though confronting me with the aspect of an elderly man merely. Death ends time, but this man had never been dead, or surely it would not have been in the power of brandy and chafing and fire to arouse him. And though all the processes of nature had been checked in him for nearly half a century, yet he must have been throughout as much alive as a sleeping man, and consequently, when he awoke he arose with the weight of a hundred and three years upon his brain, which may suffice to account for the preternatural peculiarities of his character. After sitting a long while, sullenly smoking in silence, he fetched his mattress and some covers, lay down upon it, and fell fast asleep. I admired and envied this display of confidence, and heartily wished myself as safe in his hands as he was in mine. The afternoon passed. I was on deck a half-dozen times, but never witnessed the least alteration in the ice. My spirits sank very low. There was bitter remorseless defiance in the white, fierce, rigid stare of the ice, and I could not believe with the Frenchman that all our labour and expenditure of powder was in vain. There was no more noticeable weight in the wind, but the sea was beginning to beat with some strength upon the coast, and the schooner sometimes trembled to the vibrations of the blows. There was also a continuous crackling noise coming up out of the ice, and just as I came on deck on my third visit, a block of ice weighing, I dare say, a couple of hundred tons fell from the broken shoulder on the store-board quarter and plunged with a roar like a thunderclap into the chasm that had opened in the night. I sat before the furnace, extremely dejected, whilst the Frenchman snored on his mattress. I could no longer flatter myself that the explosions had made the impression I had expected on the ice, and my mind was utterly at a loss. How to deliver myself from this horrible situation I could not imagine. As to the treasure, why if the chests had all been filled with gold they might have gone to the bottom there, and then for me, so utterly insignificant did their value seem as against the pricelessness of liberty and the joy of deliverance. Had I been alone I should have had a stouter heart, I dare say, for then I should have been able to do as I pleased. But now I was associated with a bloody-minded rogue whose soul was in the treasure, and who was certain to oppose any plan I might propose for the construction of a boat or raft out of the material that formed the schooner. The sole ray of hope that gleamed upon me broke out of the belief that this island was going north, and that when we had come to the height of the summer in these seas the wasting of the coast or the dislocation of the northern mass would release us. Yet this was but poor comfort, too, for it threatened a terrible long spell of waiting, with perhaps disappointment in the end, and months of enforced association with a wretch with whom I should have had to live in fear of my life. When I was getting supper, Tassard awoke, quitted his mattress, and came to his bench. As anything happened whilst I slept, said he, nothing I answered. The ice shows no signs of giving. I see none, said I. Well, cried he with a sarcastic snare, have you any more fine schemes? Tis your turn now, I replied. Try your hand. If you fail, I promise you I shall not be disappointed. But you English sailors, said he, wagging his head and regarding me with a great deal of wildness in his eye, speak of yourselves as the finest seamen in the world, justify the maritime reputation of your nation by showing me how we are to escape with the schooner from the ice. Mr. Tassard, said I, approaching him and looking him full in the face, I would advise you to sweeten your temper and change your tone. I have borne myself very moderately towards you, submitted to your insults with patience, and have done you some kindness. I am not afraid of you. On the contrary, I look upon you as a swaggering bully and a hoary villain. Do you understand me? I am a desperate man in a desperate situation. But if I don't fear death, depend upon it, I don't fear you, and I take God to witness that if you do not use me with the civility I have a right to expect, I will kill you. My temper had given way. I meant every word I spoke, and my air and sincerity rendered my speech very formidable. I approached him by another stride. He started up as I thought to seize me. But in reality to recoil, and this he did so effectually as to tumble over his bench, and down he fell, striking his bald head so hard that he lay for several minutes motionless. I stood over him till he chose to sit erect, which he presently did, rubbing his pawl, and looking at me with the air of mingled bewilderment and fear. This is scurry usage to give a shipmate in distress, said he. Odds life, man. I had thought there was some sense of humour in you. Your hand, Mr. Rodney, I feel dazed. I helped him to rise. And he then sat down in a somewhat rickety manner, rubbing his eyes. It might have been fancy. It might have been the illusion of the furnace light combined with the venerable appearance his long hair and naked paint gave him. But me thought in those few minutes he had grown to look twenty years older. Never concern yourself about my humour, Mr. Tassard, said I, preserving my determined air and coming close to him again. How is it to stand between us? I'll leave the choice to you. If you will treat me civilly, you'll not find me wanting in every disposition to render our miserable state tolerable. But if you insult me, use me injuriously, and act the pirate over me, who am an honest man, by God, Mr. Tassard, I will kill you. He stooped away from me and raised his hand in a posture as if to fend me off, and cried in a whining manner. I lost my head. These gunpowder business have been a hellish disappointment. Look you, Mr. Rodney, calm, we will drink a can to our future amity. I answered coldly that I wanted no more wine, and bait him the wear of me, that he had gone far enough, that our hideous condition had filled my soul with desperation and misery, and that I would not have my life on this frozen schooner made more abominable than it was by his swagger, lies, and insults, and I added in a loud voice and in a menacing manner that death had no terrors for me, and that I would dispatch him with as little fear as I should meet my own doom whatever shape it took. I marched on deck, not a little astounded by the cowardice of the old rascal, and very well pleased with the marked impression my bearing in language had produced on him. Not that I supposed for a moment that my bold comportment would save me from his knife or his pistol when he should think proper to make away with me. No, all I reckoned upon was cowing him into a similar posture of mind and checking his aggressions and insolence. As to his murdering me, I was very sure he would not attempt such an act whilst we remained imprisoned. Loneliness would have more horrors for him than for me. And though my machinery of minds had apparently failed, he was shrewd enough, despite his rage of disappointment, to understand that more was to be done by two men than by one, and that between us something might be attempted which would be impracticable by a simple pair of hands, and particularly old hands such as his. I stayed but a minute or two on deck. Such was the cold that I do not know I had ever felt it more biting and bitter. The sound of foaming waters filled the wind, and the wind itself was blowing fairly strong, in gusts that screamed in the frozen rigging or in blasts that had the deep echo of the thunderclaps of the splitting ice. The clouds were numerous and dark, with the shadow of the night, and the swiftness of their motion as they sailed up out of the southwest quarter was illustrated by the leaping of the few bright stars from one dusky edge to another. I returned below and sat down. The Frenchman asked me no questions. He had his can in the oven and its death's head in his great hand, and puffed out clouds of smoke of the color of his beard and indeed in the candle and firelight looked like a figure of old time with his long nose and bald head. I addressed one or two civil remarks to him, which he answered in a subdued manner, discovering no resentment whatever that I could trace in his eyes or the expression of his countenance, and being wishful to show that I bore no malice I talked of pirates and their usages, and asked him if the Boca del Dragon fought under the red or black flag. By the black flag certainly, said he, but if we met with resistance it was our custom to haul it down and hoist the red flag to let our opponents know we should give no quarter. Where is your flag-locker, said I? In my berth he answered. I should like to see the black flag, I exclaimed, till the one piece of bunting I believe I have never viewed. I'll fetch it, said he, and taking the lathorn went aft very quietly, but with a certain stagger at his walk, which I should have put down to the wine, if it was not that his behavior was free from all symptoms of ebriation. The change in him surprised me, but not so greatly as you might suppose. Indeed it excited my suspicions rather than my wonder. Fear worked in him unquestionably, but what I seemed to see best was some malignant design which he hoped to conceal by an air of consolation and a quality of respectful bonomy. He came back with a flag in his hand, and we spread it between us. It was black with a yellow skull grinning in the middle, over this an hourglass, and beneath a crossbones. What consternation has this signal caused and does still cause, said I, surveying it whilst a hundred fancies of the barbarous scenes it had flown over, the miserable cries for mercy that had swept up past it to the ear of God crowded into my mind. I think, Mr. Tassard, said I, that our first step, should we ever find ourselves afloat in this ship, must be to commit this and all other flags of a light kind on board to the deep. There is evidence in this piece of drapery to hang an angel. He let fall his ends of the flag and sat down suddenly. Yes, he answered, sending a curious rolling glance around the cook room, and at the same time bringing his hand to the back of his head, these his evidence to dangle even an honester man than you, sir. All flags but the end sign we resolve to sail under must go, all flags, and all the wearing apparel, and, and, but, here he muttered a curse, we are fixed, there is to be no sailing. He shook his head and covered his eyes. His manner was strange and the stranger for his quietude. I said to him, are you ill? He looked up sharply and cried vehemently. No, no! Then stretched his lips in a very ghastly grin and turned to take the can from the oven. But his hand missed it, and he appeared to grope as if he were blind, though he looked at the can all the time. Then he catched it and brought it to his mouth, but trembled so much that he spilt as much as he drank. And after putting the can back sat shaking his beard and stroking the wet off it, me thought in a very mechanical, lunatic way. I thought to myself, is this behavior some stratagem of his? What device can such a bearing hide? If he is acting he plays his part well. I rolled the black flag into a bundle and flung it into a corner, and resuming my seat and my pipe continued, more for civility's sake than because of any particular interest I took in the subject, to ask him questions about the customs and habits of pirates. I believe, said I, the buccaneers are so resolute in having clear ships that they have neither beds nor seats on board. The English, he answered, speaking slowly and letting his pipe droop whilst he spoke with his eyes fixed on deck. Not the Spanish, tease the custom of most English pirates to eat and sleep upon the decks for the sake of a clear ship, as you say. The Spaniard loves comfort. You may observe his fancy in this ship. How is the plunder partitioned, I asked. Everything is put into the common chest, as we call it, and brought to the mast and sold by auction. Strange, he cried, breaking off and putting his hand to his brow. I find my speech difficult. Do you notice I halt and utter thickly? I replied no, his voice seemed to be the same as Hither, too. Yet I feel ill. Holy Mother of God, what is this feeling coming upon me? Oh, Jesus, how faint and dark! He half rose from his bench but sat again, trembling as if the palsy had seized him, and I noticed his head dotted with beads of sweat. He had drunk so much wine spirits throughout the day that a dram would have been of no use to him. I said, I expect it will be the blow on the back of your head when you fell just now that has produced this feeling of giddiness. Let me help you lie down, for his mattress was on deck. The sensation will pass, I don't doubt. If he heard me, he did not heed me, but fell a muttering and crying to himself. And now I did certainly remark a quality in his voice that was new to my ear. It was not, as he had said, a labour or thickness of utterance, but a dryness and parchedness of old age, with many breaks from high to low notes, and a lean noise of dribbling, threading every word. He sweated and talked and muttered, but this was from sheer terror. He did not swoon but sat with a stoop, often pressed his brows and gazing about him, like one whose senses are all abroad. Gracious mother of all angels, he exclaimed, crossing himself several times, but with a feeble, almost agitated hand, and speaking in French and English, and sometimes interjecting an invocation in Italian or Spanish, though I give you what he said in my own tongue. Surely I am dying. Oh Lord, how frightful to die. Oh Holy Virgin, be merciful to me. I shall go to hell. Oh, Jesus, I am past forgiveness for the love of heaven, Mr. Rodney, some brandy. Oh, that some saint would interpose for me. Only a few years longer, cramp me a few years longer, I beseech for time that I may repent. And he extended one quivering hand for the brandy, of which a draft stood melted in the oven, and made the sign of the cross upon his breast with the other, whilst he continued to whine out, in his cracked pipes, the wildest appeals for mercy, saying a vast deal that I durst not venture to set down, so plentiful and awful were his clamours for time, that he might repent, though he never lapsed into blasphemy, but on the contrary discovered an agony of religious horror. I was much astonished and puzzled by this illness that had come upon him. For though he talked of darkness and faintness and of dying, he continued to sit up on his bench and take pulse at the can of brandy I had handed to him. It might be, indeed, that a sudden faintness had terrified him nearly out of his senses with the prospect of approaching death. But that would not account for the peculiar note and appearance of age that had entered his figure, face, and voice. Then an extraordinary fancy occurred to me. Had the whole weight of the unhappy wretches' years suddenly descended upon him? Or, if not wholly arrived, might not these indications in him mark the first stages of a gradually increasing pressure? The heat, the vivacity, the fierceness, spirits, and temper of the life I had been instrumental in restoring to him probably illustrated his character as it was eight and forty years since. That had flourished artificially from the moment of his awakening down to the present hour. But now the hand of time was upon this man, whose age was above a hundred. He might be decaying and wasting, even as he sat there, into such an intellectual condition and physical aspect as he would possess and submit had he come without a break into his present age. I was fascinated by the mystery of his vitality, and breathlessly watched him as if I expected to witness some harlequin change in his face, and mark the transformation of his polished brow into the lean austerity of wrinkles. His voice sank into a mere whisper at last, and then, ceasing to speak altogether, he dropped his chin onto his bosom and began to sway from side to side, catching himself from falling with several paralytic starts, but without lifting his head or opening his eyes that I could see, and manifesting every symptom of extreme drowsiness. I got up and laid my hand on his shoulder, on which he turned his face and viewed me with one eye closed, the other scarce open. How are you feeling now, said I? Sleepy, very sleepy, he answered. I'll put your mattress into your hammock, said I, and the best thing you can do is go and turn in properly and get a long night's rest, and tomorrow morning you'll feel yourself as hearty as ever. He mumbled some answer which I interpreted to signify very well, so I shouldered his mattress and slung a lamp-thorn in his cabin, and then returned to help him to bed. He sat reeling on the bench, his chin on his breast, catching himself up as before, with little sharp terrified recoveries, and I was forced to put my hand on him again to make him understand I had come back. He then made as if to rise, but trembled so violently that he sank down again with a groan, and I was obliged to put my whole strength to the lifting of him to get him on to his legs. He leaned heavily upon me, breathing hard, stooping very much and trembling. When we got to his cabin I perceived that he would never be able to climb into his hammock, nor had I the power to hoist a man of his bulk so high. To end the perplexity I cut the hammock down and laid it on the deck, and covering him with a heap of clothes, unslunged the lamp-thorn, wished him good night, closed the door, and returned to the furnace. Chapter 23 of The Frozen Pirate This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Barbara Dirksen The Frozen Pirate by W. Clark Russell Chapter 23 The Ice Breaks Away It was not yet eight o'clock. I was restless in my mind, under a great surprise, and was not sleepy. I filled a pipe, made me a little panicking of punch, and sat down before the fire to think. If ever I had suspected the accuracy of my conjecture that the Frenchman's sudden astonishing indisposition was the effect of his extreme age coming upon him, and breaking down the artificial vitality with which he had bristled into life under my hands, I must have found fifty signs to set my misgivings at rest in his drowsiness, nodding, bowed form, weakness, his tottering and trembling, and other features of his latest behavior. If I was right, then I had reason to be thankful to Almighty God for this unparalleled and most happy dispensation. For now I should have nothing to fear from the old rogue's vindictiveness and horrid greed. Supposing him to be no more than a hundred, the infirmities of five score years would stand between him and me, and protect me as effectually as his death. I had nothing to dread from a man who could scarce stand, whose palsied hand could scarce clasp a knife, whose evil tongue could scarce articulate the terrors of his soul, or the horrors of his recollection. The wonder of it all was so great it filled me with admiration and astonishment. Had he been dead and come to life again, as Lazarus, or one of those bodies which arose during the time our Lord hung upon the cross, then questionless he must have picked up the chain of his life at the link which death had broken, and continued his natural walk into age and decay, though interrupted by a thousand years of the sepulchre, as if his life had been without this black hiatus, and he was proceeding steadily and humanly from the cradle. But collecting that the vital spark could never have been extinguished in him, I understood that time, which has absolute control over life, still knew him as its prey during all those forty-eight years in which he had lain frozen, that it had seized him now and suddenly, and pinned upon his back the full burden of his lusters. This is to say, I believed, but the moral, of course, would give me further proof. Well, it was a happy and gracious deliverance for me. He could do me no hurt, the scythe had sheared his talons, and all without occasioning my conscience the least uneasiness whatever. Whereas, but for this interposition, I did truly and solemnly believe that it must have come to my having had to slay him, that I might preserve my own life. Thus I sat for an hour smoking and wetting my lips with the punch, whilst the fire burned low, so exulting in the thought of my escape from the treacherous villain I had recovered from the grave, and in the feeling that I might now be able to go to rest, to move here and there, to act as I pleased without being haunted and terrified by the shadow of his vowel intent, that I hardly gave my mind for a moment to the situation of the schooner, nor to the barren consequences of my fine scheme of minds. The wind blew strong. I could hear the humming of it in every fibre of the vessel. The bed on which she rested trembled to the blows of the seas upon the rocks. From time to time in the midst of my musing I started to the sharp claps of parted ice. Still feeling sleepless I threw a few coals on the fire, and catching sight of the pirate flag opened it on the deck as wide as the space would permit, and sat down to contemplate the hideous insignia embroidered on it. My mind filled with a hundred fancies as my gaze went from the skull on the black field to the death's head pipe that had fallen from the grasp of Tassard and lay on the deck, and I was sitting lost in a deep dreamlike contemplation when I was startled and shocked into instantaneous activity by a blast of noise louder than any thunder clap that I had ever heard ringing and booming through the schooner. This was followed by a second, and then a third, at intervals during which you might have counted ten, and I became sensible of a strange sickening motion which lasted about twenty or thirty moments such as might be experienced by one swiftly descending in a balloon or in falling from a height whilst pent up in a coach. For a little while the schooner healed over so violently that the benches and all things movable in the cookroom slided as far as they could go, and I heard a great clatter and commotion among the freight in the hold. She then came upright again, and simultaneously, with this a vast mass of water, tumbled onto the deck and washed over my head, and then fell another, and then another, all in such a way as to make me know that the ice had broken and slipped the schooner close to the ocean, where she lay exposed to its surges but not free of the ice for she did not toss or roll. I seized the lanthorn and sprang to the cabin where I hung it up and mounted the companion steps, but as I put my hand to the door to thrust it open a sea broke over the side and filled the decks, bubbling and thundering past the companion hatch in such a way as to advise me that I need but open the door to drown the cabin. I waited, my heart beating very hard, mad to see what had happened, but not daring to trust myself on deck, lest I should be immediately swept into the sea. It was the most terrible time I had yet lived through in this experience. To every blow of the billows the schooner trembled fearfully. The crackling noises of the ice was as though I was in the thick of a heavy action. The full weight of the wind seemed to be upon the ship, and the screeching of it in the iron-like shrouds pierced to my ear through the hissing and tearing sounds of the water washing along the decks, and the volcanic notes of the surges breaking over the vessel. I say, to hear all this and not be able to see, to be ignorant of the situation of the schooner, not to know from one second to another whether she would not be crushed up and crumbled into staves, or be hurled off her bed and be pounded to fragments upon the ice rocks by the seas, or be dashed by the canyoning of the surge into the water and turned bottom up, made this time out and a way more terrible than the collision between the laughing Mary and the iceberg. I drew my breath with difficulty and stood upon the companion ladder, harkening with straining ears, my hand upon the door. I was now sensible of a long-drawn, stately solemn kind of heaving motion in the schooner, which I put down to the rolling of the ice on which she rested, and this convinced me that the mass in whose hollow she had been fixed had broken away and was afloat and riding upon the swell that underran the billows. But I was far too much alarmed to feel any of those transports in which I must have indulged had this issue to my scheme happened in daylight and in smooth water. I was terrified by the apprehensions which had occurred to me, even whilst I was at work on the mines. I mean that if the bed broke away the schooner would make it top heavy, and that it would capsize, and thus I stood in a very agony of expectancy, caged like a rat, and as helpless as the dead. Half an hour must have passed, during which time the decks were incessantly swept by the seas, in so much that I never once durced open the door, even to look out. But nothing having happened to increase my consternation in this half hour, though the movement in the schooner was that of a very ponderous and majestical rolling and heaving, showing her bed to be afloat. I began to find my spirits and to listen and wait with some buddings of hope and confidence. At the expiration of this time the seas began to fall less heavily and regularly onto the deck, and presently I could only hear them breaking forward, but without a quarter their former weight, and nothing worse came aft than large brisk showers of spray. I armed myself with additional clothing for the encounter of the wet, cold and wind, and then pushed open the door and stepped forth. The sky was dark with rolling clouds, but the ice put its own light into the air, and I could see as plain as if the first of the dawn had broken. It was, as I had supposed, the mass of the valley in which the schooner had been sepulchred for eight and forty years had come away from the main and lay floating within a cable's length of the coast. A stranger, wonderfuler picture, human eye, never beheld. The island shore ran a rampart of faintness along the darkness to where it died out in liquid dusk to right and left. The schooner sat upon a bit of ice that showed a surface of about half an acre. Her stern was close to the sea and about six feet above it. On her larbored quarter the slope or shoulder of the eclivity had been broken by the rupture, and you looked over the side into the clear sea beyond the limit of the ice there, but abreast of the fore shrouds the ice rose in a kind of wall, a great splinter it looked of what was before a small broad-browed hill, and the wind or the sea having caused the body on which the schooner lay to veer, this wall stood as a shield betwixt the vessel and the surges, and was now receiving those blows which had herefore, too, struck her starboard side at midships and filled her decks. Oh, for a wizard's incorn, that I might make you see the picture as I view it now, even with the eye of memory, the posture of the little burg pointed the schooner's head seawards about west. The ice terraces of the island lay with the wild strange gleam of their own snow radiance upon them upon the larbored quarter. Around the schooner was the whiteness of her frozen seat, and her outline was an inky exquisitely defined configuration upon it. Above the crystal wall on the larbored bow rose the spume of the breaking surge in pallid bodies, glancing for an instant, and sometimes shaking a thunder into the ship when a portion of the seething water was flung by the wind upon the forecastle deck. At moments a larger sea than usual overran the ice on the larbored beam and quarter, and boiled up around the buttocks of the schooner. To leeward the smooth backs of the billows rolled away in jet, but the fitful throbbing and feeble flashings of froth commingled with the dim shine of the ice were over all, tincturing the darkness with a spectral sheen, giving to everything a quality of unearthliness that was sharpened yet by the sounds of the wind in the gloom on high, and the hissing and foaming of waters sending their league's distant voices to the ear upon the wings of the icy blast. The wind, as I have said, blew from the southwest, but the trend of the island coast was northeast, and as the mass of ice I was upon in parting from the main had floated to a cable's length from the cliffs, there was not much danger, whilst the wind and sea held, of the burg, if I may so term it, being thrown upon the island. That the ice under the schooner was moving, and if so, at what rate, it was too dark to enable me to know by observing the marks on the coast. There was to be no sleep for me that night, and knowing this I stepped below and built up a good fire, and then went with the lathorn to see how to sard did, and to give him the news. But he was in so deep a sleep that after pulling him a little without awakening him, I let him lie, nothing but the sound of his breathing persuading me that he had not lapsed into his old frozen state again. Of all long nights, this was the longest I ever passed through. I did truly believe that the day was never to break again over the ocean. I must have gone from the fire to the deck thirty or forty times. The schooner continued upright. I had no fear of her oversetting. She sat very low, and the ice also showed but a small head above the water, and as the body of it lay pretty flat then, even supposing its submerged bulk was small, there was little chance of its capsizing. I also noticed that we were setting seawards, that is to say to the westward, by a noticeable shrinking of the pallid coast. But I could never stay long enough above to observe with any kind of narrowness, the wind being full of the wet that was flung over the ice wall, and the cold unendurable. All night I kept the fire going, and on several occasions visited the Frenchman but found emotionless in sleep. I kept too good a lookout to apprehend any sudden calamity short of capsizal, which I no longer feared, and during the watches of that long night I dreamt a hundred waking dreams of my deliverance, of my share of the treasure, of my arriving in England, quitting the sea for ever, and setting up as a great squire, marrying a nobleman's daughter, driving in a fine coach, and ending with a seat in parliament and a stout, well-sounding handle to my name. At last the day broke. I went on deck and found the dawn brightening into morning. The wind had fallen, and with it the sea, but there still ran a middling strong surge, and the breeze was such as, in sailor's language, you would have shown your top gallant sails, too. I could now take measure of our situation, and was not a little astonished and delighted to observe the island to be at least a mile distant from us, and the northeast end lying very plain, the ocean showing beyond it, though in the southwest the ice died out upon the sea-line. That we had been set away from the main by some current was very certain. There was a westerly tendency in all the bergs which broke from the island, the small ones moving more quickly than the large, for the sea in the north and west was dotted with at least fifty of these white masses, great and little. On the other hand the wind and seas were answerable for the progress we had made to the north. The wall of ice, as I call it, that had stood over against the larboard bow was gone, and the seas tumbled with some heaviness of froth, and much noise over the ice passed the bows and washed past the bends on either side in froth rising as high as the channels. I noticed a great quantity of broken ice sinking and rising in the dark green curls of the billows, and big blocks would be hurled on to the schooner's bed and then be swept off, sometimes fetching the bilge such a thump as seemed to swing a bellow through her frame. It was only at intervals, however, that water fell upon the decks, for the ice broke the bead of the moderating surge and forced it to expend its weight in spume, which there was not strength of wind enough to raise and heave. Since the vessel continued to lie head to sea, my passionate hope was that these repeated washings of the waves would in time loosen the ice about her keel, in which case it would not need much of a billow, smiting her full bow's fair, to slide her clean down and off her bed, and so launch her. There were many clouds in the heavens, but the blue was very pure between. The morning brightening with the rising of the sun, I directed an earnest gaze along the horizon, but there was nothing to see but ice. Some of the bergs, however, and more particularly the distant ones, stole out of the blue atmosphere to the sunshine, with so complete a resemblance to the lifting canvas of ships, that I would catch myself staring fixedly, my heart beating fast. But there was no dejection in these disappointments. The ecstasy that filled me on beholding the terrible island, the hideous frozen prison whose crystal bars I had again and again believed were never to be broken, now lying at a distance with its northern cape imperceptibly opening to our subtle movement, was so violent that I could not have found my voice for the tears in my heart. This, then, was the result of my scheme. It was no failure, as Tassard had said, as he owed his life to me, so now did he owe me his liberty. Nay, my transports were so great that I would not suffer myself to feel an instant's anxiety touching the condition of the schooner. I mean whether she would leak or prove sound when she floated, and how we two men were to manage to navigate so large a craft that was still as much spellbound aloft in her frozen canvas and tackle as ever she had been in the sepulcher in which I discovered her. I went below and put the provisions we needed for breakfast into the oven, and entered Tassard's cabin. On bringing the lanthorn to his face as he lay under half a score of coats upon the deck, I perceived that he was awake, and my heart being full I cried out cheerily, Good news! Good news! The gunpowder did its work. The ice is ruptured and we are afloat, Mr. Tassard, afloat in progressing north. He looked at me vacantly, and giving his head a shake exclaimed, How can I crawl from these mounds? My strength is gone. If I was amazed that the joyful intelligence I had delivered produced no other response than this quarrelous inquiry I was far more astonished by the sound of his voice. It was the most cracked and venerable pipe that ever tickled the throat of old age. A mingling of wailing falsettos and of hollow gasping growls, the whole very weak. I threw the clothes off him and said, Do you wish to rise? I will bring your breakfast here if you wish. He looked at me, but made no answer. I bawled again and observed by the dim lanthorn light that he watched my lips with an air of attention, and whilst I waited for his reply he said, I don't hear you. Anxious to ascertain to what extent his hearing was impaired, I kneeled on the deck and putting my lips to his ears said, not very loud, Will you come to the cook house which he did not hear? And then louder, Will you come to the cook house which he did not hear either? I believed him stone deaf till on roaring with all the power of my lungs he answered, Yes. I took him by the hands and hauled him gently on to his feet and had to continue holding him or he must have fallen. Time was beginning with him when he had gone to bed and the remorseless old soldier had completely finished his work whilst his victims slept. I viewed the Frenchman whilst I grasped his hands and there stood before me a shrunk, tottering, deaf, bowed, feeble old man. What was yesterday, a polished head, was now a shriveled pate, as though the very skull had shrunk and left the skin to ripple into wrinkles and sit loose and puckered. His hands trembled excessively, but his lower jaw was held in its place by his teeth and this perpetuated in the aged, dwindled countenance something of the likeness of the fierce and sinister visage that had confronted me yesterday. I was thunderstruck by the alteration and stood overwhelmed with awe, confusion and alarm. Then, recollecting my spirits, I supported the miserable relic to the fire, putting his bench to the dresser that he might have a back to lean against. He could scarce feed himself. Indeed he could hardly hold his chin off his breast. He had gone to bed a man, as I might take it, of fifty-six, and during the night the angel of time had visited him, and there he sat, a hundred and three years of age. He looked at, Ha! thought I! I was dreading your treachery yesterday. There is nothing more to fear. Besides that he was nearly stone-deaf he could hardly see, and I was sure if he should be able to move at all he could not stir a leg without the help of sticks. I was going to roar out to him that we were adrift, but he looked so imbecile that I thought, to what purpose? If there be aught of memory in him let him sit and chew the cud thereof. He cannot last long. The cold must soon stop his heart. And with that I went on eating my breakfast in silence, but greatly affected by this astonishing mark of the hand of Providence, and under a very heavy and constant sense of awe, for the like of such a transformation I am sure had never before encountered mortal eyes, and it was terrifying to be alone with it. CHAPTER XXIV of the frozen pirate. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Barbara Dirksen. The Frozen Pirate by W. Clark Russell. CHAPTER XXIV The Frenchman Dies. However, if I expected my Frenchman to sit very long silent, he soon undeceived me by beginning to complain in his tremulous aged voice of his weakness and aching limbs. Dies, the terrible cold that has affected me, said he, whilst his head nodded nervously. I feel the rheumatism in every bone. There is no weakness like the rheumatic. I have heard and Dies true, Dies true. It may lay me along, yes, by the virgin Dies rheumatism. What else? Here he was interrupted by a long fit of coughing, and when it was ended he turned to address me again, but looked at the bulkhead on my right, as if his vision could not fix me. But my capers are not over, he cried, setting up his rickety shrill throat. No, no, vive l'amour, vive la joie. The sun is coming. The sun is the fountain of life. Amen, brave. There are some shakes in these stout legs yet. He shook his head with a fine air of cunning and knowingness, grinning very oddly. And then, falling grave with the startling suddenness, he began to dribble out a piratical love story he had once before favoured with me, describing the charms of the women with a horrid leer. His head nodding with the nervous affection of age all the time whilst he looked blind me in my direction, a hideous and yet pitiful object. I could not say that his mind was gone, but he talked with many breaks for breath and not very coherently, as though the office of his tongue was performed by habit rather than memory, so that he often went far astray and babbled into sentences that had no reference to what had gone before, though on the whole I managed to collect what he meant. I was sure he had not power enough of vision to observe me in the dim reddish light of the cookroom, and this being so, he could not know I was present, more particularly, as he could not hear me, yet he persisted in his poor babble, which was a behaviour in him that, more than any matter of his speech, persuaded me of his imbecility. He made no reference to our situation, and in solemn truth I believe his memory retained no more than a few odds and ends of the evil story of his life, like bits of tarnished lace and a rusty button or two lying in the bottom of a dark chest that has long been emptied of the clothes at once held. But my condition made such heavy demands upon my thoughts that I had very much less attention to give to this surprising phenomenon of senility than its uncommon merits deserved. It has puzzled every member of the faculty that I have mentioned it to, the supposition being that, given the case of suspended animation there is no waste, and the person would quit his stupor with the same powers and aspect as he possessed when he entered it, though it lasted a thousand years. But granting there is no waste, time is always present waiting to settle accounts when the sleeper lifts his head. There may be an artificial interval, during which the victim might show as my pirate did, but the poised load of years is severed on a sudden by the scythe and becomes super-incumbent, and with the weight comes the transformation, and this theory, as the only eyewitness of the marvellous thing, I will hold and maintain whilst I have a breath in my body to support it. I left him gabbling to himself, sometimes grinning as if greatly diverted, sometimes lifting a trembling hand to help his ghostly recital by an equally ghostly dumb-show, and when on deck satisfied that he was too weak to get to the fire and metal with it, but sufficiently invigorated by his long night's rest to sit up without tumbling off the bench. This time I carried with me an old perspective-glass I had noticed in the chest in my cabin, the chest in which were the nautical instruments, charts, and papers, and levelled it along the coast of the island. But it was a poor glass, and I found I could manage nearly as well with the naked eye. There was no change of any kind, only that there was a sensible diminuation in the blowing of the wind and a corresponding decrease in the height of the seas. The ice stretched in a considerable bed on either hand the ship and ahead of her. The water frothed freely over it, and there was a great jangling and flashing of broken pieces, but the hull was no longer heavily hit by them. I got into the main chains to view the body of the vessel, and noticed with satisfaction that the constant pouring of the sea had thinned down the frozen snow to the depth of at least a foot. This encouraged me to hope that the restless tides would sap to her keel at least, and put her into a posture to be easily launched by the blow of a surge upon her bows. That is, if fortune continued to keep her head on. But by this time my transports having moderated, I was grown fully sensible of the extreme peril of our position. Should the sea rise and the ice bring her broadside to it, it was inevitable, it seemed to me, that she must go to pieces. Or, if the ice on which she floated fouled some other berg, it might cost us all our spars. Then again occurred the dismal question. Because she should launch herself, would she float? For eight and forty years she had been high and dry, never a cockers-hammer had rung upon her in all that time. Tassard had spoken of her as a stout ship, and so she was, I did not doubt. But the old rogue talked as if she had been stranded six months only. I had no other hope than that the intense cold had treated her timbers as it had treated the bodies of her people, an expectation not unreasonable when I considered the state of her stores and the manifest substantiality of her inward fabric. I regained the deck and stepped over to the pumps. There were two of them but built up in snow. My business was to save my life if I could, and the schooner too, for the sake of the great treasure in her. Nothing must disconcert me, I said to myself. I must spare no labour but act a hardy sailor's part and ask for God's countenance. So I trotted below, and selecting some weapons from the arms room, such as a tomahawk, a spade-headed spear, a pike and a chopper, I returned to the pumps and fell upon them with a will. The ice flew about me but I continued to smite the exercise making me hot and renewing my spirits. And in an hour, but it took me an hour, I had chopped, hacked and beaten one of the pumps pretty clear of its thick crystal coat. They were what is called break-pumps, that is to say pumps which are worked by handles. The ice of course held them immovable, but they looked to be perfectly sound, in good working order, though there would be neither chance nor need to test them until the schooner went afloat. I cleared the other one and was well satisfied with my morning's work. But I did bitterly lament the lack of a little crew. Even the Frenchman, as he was yesterday, would have served my turn. For between us we might have made shift to clamber aloft, and with hatchets break the sails free of their ice-bonds, and so expose canvas enough to hold the wind, which could not have failed to impart a swifter motion to the burg. But with my single pair of hands I could only look up idly at the yards and gaffes standing hard as granite. Still even such surface as the spars and rigging offered to the breeze helped their progress. We were but a very little burg, nay not a burg, but rather a sheet of ice lying indifferently flat upon the sea, and as I believe without much depth. Our spars and gear were as if the ice itself were rigged as a ship, and then there was the height of the hull besides to offer the breeze a tolerable resistance for its offices of propulsion. In this way I explain our progress, but whatever the cause certain it was that our bed of ice was fairly underway, and at noon the island of ice bore at least half a leak distant from us, and we had opened the sea broadly past its northern cape. I have often diverted myself with wondering what sort of impression the posture of our schooner would have made on the minds of sailors sighting us from their deck. We looked to be floating out of water, and mariners who regard the devil as a conjurer must have accepted us as one of his pet inventions. The many icebergs which encumbered the sea filled me with anxiety. We were travelling faster than they, and it seemed impossible that we could miss striking one or another of them. Yet perilous as they were I could not but admire their beautiful appearance as they floated upon the dark blue of the running waters, flashing out very gloriously to the sun with a sparkling of tints upon their whiteness as if fires of twenty different colors had been kindled upon their craggy steeps, and then fading into a sulky watchet to the dull violet shadowing of the passing clouds. I particularly marked a very brilliant scene on the opening of five or six of them to the sunshine. They lay in such wise that the shadow of the cloud covered them all as if with a veil, the skirts of which trailing left them to leap one after the other into the noontide dazzle, and as each one shot from the shadow the flash was like a volcanic spouting of white flame, enriched with the prismatic dyes of emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and gems of lovely hue. To determine the hour and our position I fetched a quadrant from my cabin, and was happily just in time to catch the sun crossing the meridian. My watch was half an hour fast, so I had been out of my reckoning to the extent of thirty minutes ever since I had been cast away. I made our latitude to be sixty-four degrees, twenty-eight minutes south, and the computation was perhaps near enough. This business ended. I went to the cookhouse to prepare dinner, and the first object I saw was to sard flat upon his face near the door that opened into the cabin. He groaned when I picked him up, which I managed without much exertion of strength, for so much had he shrunk that I dare say more than half his weight lay in his clothes, and set him upon his bench with his back to the dresser. I put my mouth to his ear, and roared, Are you hurt? His head nodded as if he understood me, but I questioned if he did. He was the completest picture of old age that you could imagine. I fetched a couple of spears from the arm's room, and cutting them to his height, put one in each hand that he might keep himself propped, and whilst my own dinner was broiling I made him a mess of broth with which I fed him, for now that he had the sticks he would not let go of them. But in any case I doubt if his trembling hand could have lifted the spoon to his lips without capsizing the contents down his beard. With some small idea of rallying the old villain I mixed him a very stiff bumper of brandy which he sucked down out of my hand with the utmost avidity. The draught soon worked in him, and he began to move his head about, seeking me in his blind way, and then cried in his broken notes, I have lost the use of my legs and cannot walk. Mother of God, what shall I do? O holy Saint Antonio, what is to become of me? I guessed from this, that impelled by habit or some small spur of reason, he had risen to go on deck and fallen. He went on vaporing pitifully, gazing with sufficient steadfastness to let me understand that his vision received something of my outline, though he would fix his eyes either to left or right of me, as though he was not able to see if he looked straight, and this and his mournful cackle and his nodding head bowed form, propped hands and diminished face, made him as distressful and melancholy a picture of time as ever mortal man viewed. He broke off in his rambling to ask for more brandy, taking it for granted that I was still in the cook room, for I never spoke, and I filled the can for him and as before held it to his mouth, which he opened wide, a piece of behaviour which went to show that some of his wits still hung loose upon him. This was a strong dose, and co-operating with the other, soon seized hold on his head, and presently he began to laugh to himself and talk, and even broke into a stave or two, some French song which he delivered in a voice like the squeaking of a rat alternating with the growling of a terrier. I guess his stumbling upon this old French catch, which I took it to be from seeing him feebly flourish one of his sticks as if inviting a chorus, put him upon speaking his own tongue altogether, for though he continued to chatter with all the volubility his breath would permit during the whole time I sat eating, not one word of English did he speak, and not one word thereafter did I understand. Seeing how it must be with him presently I brought his mattress and rugs from his cabin, and had scarce laid them down when he let fall one of his sticks and drooped over. I grasped him, and partly lifting, partly hauling, got him on his back and covered him up. In a few minutes he was asleep. I trust I shall not be deemed inhuman if I confess that I heartily wished his end would come. If he went on living he promised to be an intolerable burden to me, being quite helpless. Besides, he was much too old for this world in which a man who reaches the age of ninety is pointed to as a sort of wonder. As there was nothing to be done on deck I filled my pipe and made myself comfortable before the furnace, and was speedily sunk in meditation. I reviewed all the circumstances of my case and considered my chances, and the nimble heels of imagination carrying me home with the schooner. I asked myself, suppose I should have the good fortune to convey the treasure in safety to England? How was I to secure it? Let me imagine myself arrived in the Thames. The whole world stares at the strange antique craft sailing up the river. She would be boarded and rummaged by the customs people, who of course would light upon the treasure, what then? I knew nothing of the law, but I reckoned since I should have to tell the truth that the money, or, and jewelry would be claimed as stolen property, and I dismissed with a small reward for bringing it home. There was folly in such contemplation at such a time, when perhaps at this hour to-morrow the chests might be at the bottom of the sea, and myself a drowned sailor floating three hundred fathoms deep. But man is a throwward child, who builds mansions out of dreams, and jockeed by hope sets out at a gallop along the visionary road to his desires. And my mind was so much taken up with considering how I should manage, when I brought the treasure home, that I spent a couple of hours in a conflict of schemes, during which time it never once occurred to me to reflect that I was a good way from home still, and that much must happen before I need give myself the least concern as to the securing of the treasure. Nothing worth recording happened that day. The wind slackened, and the ice travelled so slow, that at sundown I could not discover that we had made more than a quarter of a mile of progress to the north since noon, though we had settled by half as much again that distance westwards. Whilst I was below I could hear the ice crackling pretty briskly round about the ship, which gave me some comfort, but I could never see any change of consequence when I looked over the side or boughs. Only that at about four o'clock whilst I was taking a view from the forecastle, a large block broke away from beyond the starboard bow with the report of a swivel gun. I had not closed my eyes on the previous night, and I was tired out when the evening arrived, and as no good could come of my keeping a watch for the simple reason that it was not in my power to avert anything that might happen, I tumbled some further covering over the Frenchman, who had lain on the deck all the afternoon, sometimes dozing, sometimes waking and talking to himself, and appearing on the whole very easy and comfortable, and went to my cabin. I slept sound the whole night through, and on waking went on deck before going to the cookhouse and lighting the furnace, as was my custom. So impatient was I to observe our state and to hear such news as the ocean had for me. It was a very curious day, somewhat darksome and a dead calm, with a large long swell out of the southeast. The sky was full of clouds with a stooping appearance in the hang of them that reminded you of the belly of a hammock. They were of a sallow brown, very uncommon. Some of them round about sipped the sea-line, and their shadows obliterating those parts of the sincher which they overhung, broke the continuity of the horizon as though there were valleys in the ocean there. A good part of our bed of ice was gone, at least a fourth of it, but the schooner still lay as strongly fixed as before. I had come to the deck half expecting to find her afloat from the regular manner of her heaving, and was bitterly disappointed to discover her rooted as strongly as ever in the ice, though the irritation softened when I noticed how the bed had diminished. The mass with the ship upon it rose in sank with the sluggish squatting motion of a waterlogged vessel. It was an odd sensation to my legs after their long rest from such exercise. The heaving satisfied me that the base of the bed did not go deep, but at the same time it was all too solid for me, I could not doubt, for had the sheet been as thin as I had hoped it, it must have given under the weight of the schooner and released her. The island lay a leak distant on the larboard beam, and looked a wondrous vast field of ice going into the south, and it stared very ghastly upon the dark green sea out of the clouds whose gloom sank behind it. I could not observe that we had drifted anything to the north, whilst our set to the westward had been steady though snail-like. The sea in the north and northwest swarmed with bergs like great snow-drops on the green undulating fields of the deep. Now and again the swell in which fragments of ice floated with the gleam of crystal in liquid glass would be too quick for our dull rise and overflow the bed, brimming to the channels with much noise of foam and pouring waters, but the interposition of the ice took half its weight out of it, and it never did more than send a tremble through the vessel. What to make of the weather I knew not? Certainly all of the caprices of this huge cold sea its comms are the shortest lived, but this knowledge helped me to know other. The clouds did not stir. In the northeast a beam of sunshine stood like a golden waterspout its foot in a little flood of glory. It stayed all the while I was on deck, showing that the clouds had scarce any motion, and made the picture of the sea that way beyond nature to my sight, by the contrast of the defined shaft of gold burning purely with the dusk of the clouds all about, and of the pool of dazzle at its foot with the ugly green of the water that melted into it. I went below and got about lighting the fire. The Frenchmen lay very quiet under as many clothes as would fill a half dozen of sacks. It was bitterly cold, sharper in the cook house than I had ever remembered it, and I could not conceive why this should be until I recollected that I had forgotten to close the companion hatch before going to bed. I prepared some broth for my companion, and dressed some ham for myself, and ate my breakfast supposing he would mean while awake. But after sitting some time and observing that he did not stir, a suspicion flashed into my mind. I kneeled down and clearing his face, listened. He did not breathe. I brought the lamp-thorn to him, but his countenance had been so changed by his unparalleled emergence from a state of middle life into extreme old age. He was so puckered, hollowed, gaunt, his features so distorted by the great weight of his years that I was not to know him dead by merely viewing him. I threw the clothes off him, listened at his mouth breathlessly, felt his hands which were ice-cold. Dead indeed thought I. Great Father, tis I will. And I rose very slowly and stood surveying the silent figure with an emotion that owed its inspiration partly to the several miracles of vitality I had beheld in him during our association, and to a bitter feeling of loneliness that swelled up in me. Yes, I had feared and detested this man, but his quick transformation and silent dark exit affected me, and I looked down upon him sadly. Yet to be perfectly candid with you I recollect that though it occurred to me to test if life was out of him by bringing him close to the fire and chafing him and giving him brandy, I would not stir. No, I would not have moved a finger to recover him, even though I should have been able to do so by merely putting him to the furnace. He was dead, and there was an end. And without further ado I carried him into the forecastle and threw a hammock over him, and left him to lie there till there should come clear water to the ship to serve him for a grave.