 CHAPTER XIII of THE FROSEN PIRATE THE FROSEN PIRATE by William Clark Russell I EXPLORE THE HOLD AND THE FOXEL It was pitch dark when I awoke, and I conceived it must be the middle of the night. But to my astonishment, on lighting the lantern and looking at the watch, which I had taken the precaution to wind up overnight, I saw it wanted but twenty minutes of nine o'clock, so that I had passed through twelve hours of solid sleep. However it was only needful to recollect where I was, and to cast a glance at the closed door and port to understand why it was dark. I had slept fairly warm and awoke with no sensation of cramp, but the keen air had caused the steam of my breath to freeze upon my mouth in such a manner that, when feeling the sticky inconvenience, I put my finger to it. It felt like a little mask, and I likewise felt the pain of cold in my face, to such an extent that had I been blistered there, my cheeks, nose, and brow could not have smartered more. This resolved me henceforward to wrap up my head and face before going to rest. I opened the door and passed out, and observed an amazing difference between the temperature of the air in which I had been sleeping and that of the atmosphere in the passage. A happy discovery, for it served to assure me that, if I was careful to lie under plenty of coverings and to keep the outer air excluded, the heat of my body would raise the temperature of the little cabin, nor providing the compartment was ventilated throughout the day, was there anything to be feared from the vitiation of the air by my own breathing. My first business was to light the fire and set my breakfast to thaw and boil me a kettle of water, and some time after I went on deck to view the weather and to revolve in my mind the routine of the day. On opening the door of the companion-hatch I was nearly blinded by the glorious brilliance of the sunshine on the snow. After the blackness of the cabin it was like looking at the sun himself, and I had to stand a full three minutes with my hand upon my eyes before I could accustom my sight to the dazzling glare. It was fine weather again. The sky over the glass-like mass of the schooner was a clear dark blue, with a few light clouds blowing over it from the southward. The wind had shifted at last, but, pure as the heavens were, the breeze was piping briskly with the weight and song of a small guile, and its fangs of frost even in the comparative quiet of the sheltered deck, bit with a fierceness that had not been observable yesterday. The moment I had the body of the vessel in my sight I perceived that she had changed her position since my last view of her. Her bowels were more raised, and she lay over further by the depth of a plank. I stared earnestly at the rocky slopes on either hand, but could not have sworn their figuration was changed. An eager hope shot into my mind, but it quickly faded into an emotion of apprehension. It was conceivable indeed that on a sudden some early day I might find the schooner liberated and afloat. This was the first in spiriting flush, but then came the fear that the disruption and volcanic throes of the ice might crush her, a fear rational enough when I saw the height she lay above the sea, and how, by pressure, those slopes which formed her cradle might be jammed and welded together. The change of her posture then fell upon me with a kind of shock, and determined me, when I had broken my fast, to search her hold for a boat, or for materials for constructing some ark, by which I might float out to sea, should the ice grow menacing and force me from the schooner. I made a plentiful meal, feeling the need of abundance of food in such a temperature as this, and heartily grateful that there was no need why I should stint myself. The having to pass the two figures every time I went on deck and returned was extremely disagreeable and unnerving, and I considered that, after searching the hold, the next duty I owed myself was to remove them on deck, and even over the side, if possible, for one place below was assured to keep them haunting me as another, and they would be as much with me and the folks all, as if I stowed them away in the cabin adjoining mine. Whilst I ate, my mind was so busy with considerations of the change in the ship's posture during the night, that it ended in determining me to take a survey of her from the outside, and then climb the cliffs and look around before I fell to any other work. I fetched the cloak I had stripped the body on the rocks of, and thawed and warmed it and put it on, and a noble covering it was, thick, soft and clinging. Then, arming myself with a boarding-pike to serve as a pole, I dropped into the four chains and thence stepped onto the ice, and very slowly and carefully walked around the schooner, examining her closely, and boring into the snow upon her side with my pike, wherever I suspected a hole or indent. I could find nothing wrong with her in this way, though what a thaw might reveal I could not know. Her rudder hung frozen upon its pintles, and looked as it should. Some little distance above her rudder, where the hollow or chasm sloped to the sea, was a great split, three or four feet wide. This had certainly happened in the night, and I must have slept as sound as the dead, not to hear the noise of it. Such a rent as this, suffice to account for the subsidence of the after-part of the schooner and her further inclination to laboured. Indeed, the hollow was now coming to resemble the ways on which ships are launched, and you would have conceived by the appearance of it that if it should slope a little more yet, off would slide the schooner for the sea, and in the right posture too, that is, stern on. But I prayed with all my might and main for anything but this. It would have been very well had the hollow gone in a gentle declivity to the wash of the sea, to the water itself, in short, but it terminated at the edge of a cliff, not very high indeed, but high enough to warrant the prompt foundering of any vessel that should launch herself off it. Happily the keel was too solidly frozen into the ice to render a passage of this description possible, and the conclusion I arrived at, after careful inspection, was that the sole chance that could offer for the delivery of the vessel to her proper element was in the cracking up and disruption of the bed on which she lay. Having ended my survey of the schooner, I addressed myself to the ascent of the starboard slope, and scaled it much more easily than I had yesterday managed to make my way over the rocks. I climbed to the highest block that was nearest me on the summit, and here I had a very large view of the scene. Much to my astonishment, the first objects which encountered my eye were four icebergs, floating detached, but close together at a distance of about three miles on my side of the northeast trend of the island. I countered them and made them four. They swam low, and it was very easily seen they had formed part of the coast there, though as the form of the ice that way was not familiar to me, and as moreover the glare rendered the prospect very deceptive, I could not distinguish where the ruptures were. But one change in the face of this white country I did note, and that was the entire disappearance of two of the most beautiful of the little crystal cities that adorn the northward range. The gale of the night had wrought havoc, and the unsubstantiality of this dazzling kingdom of ice was made startlingly apparent by the evanishment of the delicate glassy architecture, and by those four white hills floating like ships under their courses and topsills out upon the flashing hurry and leaping blue and yeast of the water. It was blowing harder than I had imagined. The wind was extraordinarily sharp, and the full current of it not long to be endured on my unsheltered eminence. The sea, swelling up from the south, ran high, and was full of seething and tumbling noises, and of the roaring of the breakers, dashing themselves against the ice in prodigious bodies of foam, which so boiled along the foot of the cliffs that their fronts, rising out of it, might have passed for the spewme itself, freezing as it leapt into a solid mass of glorious brilliance. The eye never explored a scene more full of the splendour of light and of vivid colour. Here and there the rock shone prismatically, as though some flying rainbow had shivered itself upon them and lay broken. The blue of the sea and sky was deepened into an exquisite perfection of liquid tint by the blinding whiteness of the ice, which in exchange was sharpened into a wonderful effulgence by the hues above and around it. Again and again, along the whole range, far as the sight could explore, the spray rose in stately clouds of silver, which were scattered by the wind in meteoric scintillations of surpassing beauty, flashing through the fires of the sun like millions of little blazing stars. There were twenty different dyes of light in the collection of spires, fangs and pillars near the schooner, whose mass, yards and gear, mingled their own particular radiance with that of these dainty figures. And wherever I bent my gaze, I found so much of sun-tinctured loveliness and the wild white graces of ice-forms, and the dazzle of snow surfaces softening into an azure gleaming in the far blue distances. That but for the piercing wind I could have spent the whole morning in taking into my mind the marvellous spirit of this ocean picture, forgetful of my melancholy condition in the intoxication of this draft of free and spacious beauty. Satisfied as to the state of the ice and the posture of the schooner, viewed from without, I sent a slow and piercing gaze along the ocean line, and then returned to the ship. The strong wind, the dance of the sea, the grandeur of the great tract of whiteness, vitalised by the flying of violet cloud shadows along it, had fortified my spirits, and being free, for a while, of all superstitious dread, I determined to begin by exploring the folksal and ascertaining if more bodies were in the schooner than those two in the cabin and the giant form on deck. I threw some coal on the fire and placed an ox tongue along with the cheese and a lump of the frozen wine in a pannequin in the oven, for I had a mind to taste the vessel stores and thought the tongue would make an agreeable change, and then putting a candle into the lantern walked very bravely to the folksal and entered it. I was prepared for the scene of confusion, but I must say it staggered me afresh with something of the force of the first impression. Sailor's chest lay open in all directions, and their contents covered the decks. There was the clearest evidence here that the majority of the crew had quitted the vessel in a violent hurry, turning out their boxes to cram their money and jewellery into their pockets, and heedlessly flinging down their own and the clothes which had fallen to their share. This I had every right to suppose from the character of the muddle on the floor, for passing the light over a part of it, I witnessed a great variety of attire of a kind which certainly no sailor in any age ever went to sea with. Not so fine perhaps as that which lay in the cabins, but very good nevertheless, particularly the linen. I saw several wigs, beavers of the kind that were formerly carried under the arm, women's silk shoes, petticoats, pieces of lace, silk, and so forth, all directly assuring me that what I viewed was the contents of passengers luggage, together with consignments and such freight as the pirates would seize and divide, every man filling his chest. Perhaps there was less on the whole than I supposed, the litter looking great by reason of everything having been torn open and flung down loose. I trod upon these heaps with little concern. They appealed to me only as a provision for my fire, should I be disappointed in my search for coal. The hammocks obliged me to move with a stooped head. It was only necessary to fill them with my hand, that is, to test their weight by pushing them in the middle, to know if they were tenanted. Some were heavier than the others, but all of them much lighter than they would have been had they contained human bodies, and by this rapid method I satisfied my mind that there were no dead men here as fully as if I had looked into each separate hammock. This discovery was exceedingly comforting, for, though I do not know that I should have meddled with any frozen man had I found him in this place, his being in the folksal would have rendered me constantly uneasy, and it must have come to my either closing this part of the ship, and shrinking from it as from a spectre ridden gloom, or to my disposing of the bodies by dragging them on deck, a dismal and hateful job. There were no ports but a hatch overhead. Wanting light, the candle making the darkness but little more than visible, I fetched from the arms room a hand-spike that lay in a corner, and, mounting a chest, struck it at the hatch so heartily that the ice cracked all around it and the cover rose. I pushed it off and downrolled the sunshine in splendour. Everything was plain now, in many places glittering among the clothes were gold and silver coins, a few silver ornaments such as buckles and watches, things not missed by the pirates in the transport of their flight. In kicking a coat aside I discovered a couple of silver crucifixes bound together, and close by were a silver goblet and the hilt of a sword broken off short for the sake of the metal it was of. Nothing ruder than this interior is imaginable. The men must have been mighty put to it for room. There was a window in the head, but the snow veiled it. Maybe the rogues messed together aft and only used this folksal to lie in. Right under the hatch where the light was strongest was a dead rat. I stooped to pick it up, meaning to fling it onto the deck, but its tail broke off at the rump, like a pipe stem. Close against the after-bulk head that separated the folksal from the cook room was a little hatch. There was a quantity of wearing apparel upon it, and I should have missed it, but for catching sight of some three inches of the dark line the cover made in the deck. On clearing away the clothes I perceived a ring, similar to that in the Lazarot Hatch, and it rose to my first drag and left me the hold yawning black below. I peered down and observed a stelt stanchion traversed by iron pins for the hands and feet. The atmosphere was nasty, and to give it time to clear I went to the cookhouse and warmed myself before the fire. The fresh air blowing down the folksal hatch speedily sweetened the hold. I lowered the lantern and followed, and fell myself on top of some rump or spirit casks which on my hitting them returned to me a solid note. There was a forepeak forward in the bowels, and the casks went stowed to the bulkhead of it. The top of the bulkhead was open four feet from the upper deck, and on holding the lantern over and putting my head through I saw a quantity of coals. If the forepeak went as low as the vessel's floor then I calculated there would not be less than fifteen tons of coal in it. This was a noble discovery to fall upon, and it made me feel so happy that I do not know that the assurance of my being immediately rescued from this island could have given a lighter pulse to my heart. The candle yielded a very small light, and it was difficult to see above a yard or so ahead or around. I turned my face aft, and crawled over the casks, and came to under the main hatch, where lay coils of horses, buckets, blocks, and the like, but there was no pinnace, though here she had been stowed as a sailor would have promptly seen. A little way beyond, under the great cabin, was the powder magazine, a small bulkheaded compartment with a little door, a top of which was a small bullseye lamp. I peered warily enough, you will suppose, into this place, and made out twelve barrels of powder. I heartily wished them overboard, and yet, after all, they were not very much more dangerous than the wines and spirits in the lazarette and forehold. The run remained to be explored, the after part, I mean, under the lazarette deck to the rudder post, but I had seen enough. Crawling about that black interior was cold, lonesome, melancholy work, and it was rendered peculiarly arduous by the obligation of caution imposed by my having to bear a light amid a freight mainly formed of explosives and combustible matter. I had found plenty of coal, and that sufficed, so I returned by the same road I had entered, and sliding to the bulkhead door to keep the cold of the folks all out of the cookroom, I stirred the fire into a blaze, and sat down before it to rest and think. End of I explore the hold and the folks all. Chapter Fourteen 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. The Frozen Pirate by William Clark Russell Chapter Fourteen An Extraordinary Occurrence After the many great mercies which had been vouched safe to me, such as my being the only one saved of all the crew of the Laughing Mary, my deliverance from the dangers of an open boat, my meeting with this schooner and discovering within her everything needful for the support of life. I should have been guilty of the basest ingratitude had I repined, because there is no boat in the ship. Yet for all of that I could not but see it was a matter that concerned me very closely. Should the vessel be crushed? What was to become of me? It was easy to propose to myself the making of a raft or the like of such a fabric, but everything was so hard frozen that, being single-handed, it was next impossible I should be able to put together such a contrivance as would be fit to live in the smallest seaway. However, I was resolute not to make myself melancholy with those considerations. The good fortune that attended me so far might accompany me to the end, and maybe I was the fitter just then to take a hopeful view of my condition, because of the cheerfulness awakened in me by the noble show of coal in the four-peak. At twelve o'clock, by the watch in my pocket, I got my dinner. I had a mind for a lighter drink than brandy, and went to the lazarette and cut out a block of the wine in the cask I had opened. I also knocked out the head of a tears of beef, designing a hearty regale for supper. You smile, perhaps, that I should talk so much of my eating, but if on shore, amid the security of existence there, it is the one great business of life, that is to say, the one great business of life after love, what must it be to a poor shipwrecked wretch like me, who had nothing else to think of but his food? Yet I could not help smiling when I considered how I was carrying my drink about in my fingers. What the wine was, I do not know. It looked like a claret, but was somewhat sweet, and was the most generous wine I had ever tasted, spite of my having to drink it warm, for if I let the cup out of my hand to cool, low, when I looked, it was ice. Whilst I sat smoking my pipe, it entered my head to presently turn those two silent gentlemen in the cabin out of it. It was a task from which I shrank, but it must be done. To be candid, I dreaded the effects of their dismal companionship on my spirits. I had been in the schooner two days only. I had been heartened by the plenty I had met with, a sound night's rest, the fire, and my escape from the fate that had certainly overtaken me had I gone away in the boat. But being of a superstitious nature, and never a lover of solitude, I easily guessed that in a few days the weight of my loneliness would come to press very heavily upon me, and that if I suffered those figures to keep the cabin, I should find myself lying under a kind of horror which might end in breaking down my manhood, and perhaps in unsettling my reason. But how was I to dispose of them? I meditated this matter whilst I smoked. First I thought I would drag them to the fissure, or rent in the ice just beyond the stern of the schooner, and tumble them into it. But even then they would still be with me, so to speak. I mean, they would be neighbors though out of sight. And my eagerness was to get them away from this island altogether, which was only to be done by casting them into the sea. Why, though I did not mention the matter in its place, I was as much haunted last night by the man on deck, and the meditating figure on the rocks as by the fellows in the cabin, and, laugh as you may at my weakness, I do candidly own my feelings was, if I did not contrive that the sea should carry those bodies away, I should come before long to think of them as alive, no matter in what part of the island I might bear them to. And at night time, start at every sound, hear their voices in the wind, see their shapes in the darkness, and even by day dread to step upon the cliffs. That such fancies should possess me already, shows how necessary it was I should lose no time to provide against their growth. So I settled my scheme thus. First I was to haul the figures as best I could onto the deck. Then there being three to get them over the side, and afterwards by degrees to transport the four of them to some steep once they would slide of themselves into the ocean. Yet so much did I dread the undertaking, and abhor the thought of the tedious time I foresaw it would occupy me, that I cannot imagine any other sort of painful and distressing work that would not have seemed actually agreeable as compared with this. My pipe being smoked out, I stepped into the cabin, and ascending the ladder threw off the companion cover, and opened the doors. And then there went to the man that had his back to the steps. But my courage failed me, he was so lifelike, there was so wild and fierce in earnestness in the expression of his face, so imitable a picture of horror in his starting posture that my hands fell to my side and I could not lay hold of him. I will not stop to analyze my fear or ask why, since I knew that this man was dead, and he should have terrified me as surely no living man could. I can only repeat that the prospect of touching him, and laying him upon the deck, and then dragging him up the ladder, was indescribably fearful to me, and I turned away, shaking as if I had the egg you. But it had to be done, nevertheless, and after a great deal of reasoning and self-reproach, I seized him on a sudden, and kicking away the bench, let him fall to the deck. He was frozen as hard as stone, and fell like stone, and I looked to see him break, as a statue might that falls lumpishly. His arms, remaining raised, put him in an attitude of entreaty to me to leave him in peace. But I had somewhat mastered myself, and the hurry and tumult of my spirits were a kind of hot temper. So catching him by the collar, I dragged him to the foot of the companion's steps, and then with infinite labor and a number of sickening pauses, hauled him up the ladder to the deck. I let him lie and returned, weary and out of a breath. He had been a fine man in life, of beauty too, as was to be seen in the shape of his features, and the particular elegance of his chin, despite the distortion of his last unspeakable dismay. And with his clothes, I guessed his weight came hard upon two hundred pounds, no mean burden to haul up the ladder. I went to the cookhouse for a dram and to rest myself, and then came back to the cabin, and looked at the other man. His posture had been already described. He made a very burly figure in his coat, and if his weight did not exceed the others it was not likely to be less. Nothing of his head was visible but the baldness on the top and the growth of hair that ringed it, and the fluffing up of his beard about his arms in which his face was sunk. I touched his beard with a shreddering finger, and noted that the frost had made every hair of it as stiff as wire. It would not do to stand idly contemplating him, for already there was slowly creeping into me a dread of seeing his face. So I took hold of him and swayed him from the table, and he fell upon the deck sideways, preserving his posture, so that his face remained hidden. I dragged him a little way, but he was so heavy, and his attitude rendered him as a birthing so surprisingly cumbersome that I was sure I could never of my own strength haul him up the ladder. Yet neither was it tolerable that he should be there. I thought of contriving a tackle called a whip, and making one end fast to him and taking the other end to the little capstan on the main deck. But on inspecting the capstan I found that the frost had rendered it immovable, adding to which there was nothing whatever to be done with the iron hard gear, and therefore I had to give that plan up. Then thought I, if I was to put him before the fire he might presently thaw into some sort of suppleness, and so prove not harder than the other to get on deck. I liked the idea, and without Moradu dragged him laboriously into the cookroom and laid him close to the furnace, throwing in a little pile of coal to make the fire roar. I then went on deck, and easily enough, the deck being slippery, got my first man to where the huge fellow was that had sentineled the vessel when I first looked down upon her. But when I viewed the slopes, broken into rocks, which I thought unburdened, had found hard enough to ascend, I was perfectly certain I should never be able to transport the bodies to the top of the cliffs. I must either let them fall into the great split astern of the ship, or lower them over the side and leave the hollow in which the schooner lay to be their tomb. I paced about, not greatly noticing the cold in the little valley, and relishing the brisk exercise, scheming to convey the bodies to the sea, for I was passionately in earnest in wishing the four of them away, but to no purpose. I had but my arms, and schem as I would, I could not make them stronger than they were. It was still blowing a fresh bright gale from the south, the sea, as might be known by the noise of it, beat very heavily upon the cliffs of ice, and the extremity of the hollow, where it opened to the ocean, but without showing it, was again and again veiled by a vast cloud of spray, the rain of which I could hear ringing like volleys of shot as the wind smote it and drove it with incredible force against the rocks past the brow of the north slope. I thought to myself there should be power in this wind to quicken the sliding of even so mighty a burg is this island northwards. Every day should steal it by something, however inconsiderable, nearer to warmer regions, and no gale, nay, no gentle swell even, but must help to crack and loosen it into pieces. Oh, cried I, for the power to rupture this bed, that the schooner might slip into the sea. Think of her running north before such a gale as this, steadily bearing me towards a more temperate climb, and into the road of ships. I clenched my hands with a wild yearning in my heart. Should I ever behold my country again? Should I ever meet a living man? The soft and frozen steeps glared a bald reply, and I heard nothing but menace in the shrill noises of the wind, and the deep and thunderous roaring of the ocean. It was mighty comforting, however, on returning to the cabin to find it vacant, to be freed from the scare of the sight of the two silent figures. I drew my breath more easily, and stopped to glance around. It was the barest cabin I was ever in, uncarpeted, with no other seats than the little benches. I looked at the crucifix, and guessed from the sight of it that whatever might be the vessel's nation, should not been sailed by Englishmen. I peeped into Porpoly's cage, if a parrot it was, and the sight of the rich plumage carried my imagination to skies of brass, to the mysterious green solitude of tropical forests, to islands fringed with silver surf, in whose sunny flashing sported nude girls of faultless forms, showing their teeth of pearl in merry laughter, winding armorously with the blue billow, and filling the aromatic breeze with the melody of their language of the sun. Ha! thought I. Sailors see some change in their time, and with the hearty sigh I stepped into the cookroom. I started, stopped, and fell back apace with a cry. When I had put the figure before the fire he was in the same posture in which he had sat at the table, that is, leaning forward with his face hidden in his arms. I had laid him on his side, and his face to the furnace, and in that attitude you would have supposed him a man sound asleep with his arms over his face to shield it from the heat. But now, to my unspeakable astonishment, he lay on his back with his arms sunk to his side, and resting on the deck, and his face upturned. I stared at him from the door as if he was the fiend himself. I could scarce credit my senses, and my consternation was so great that I could not conceive of any man ever having labored under a greater fright. I faintly ejaculated, good God, several times, and could hardly prevent my legs from running away with me. You see, it was certain he must have moved of his own accord to get upon his back. I was prepared for the fire to thaw him into limberness, and had I found him straightened somewhat I should not have been surprised. But there was no power in fire to stretch him to his full length, and turn him over on his back. What living or ghostly hand had done this thing? Did spirits walk this schooner after all? Had I missed of something more terrible than any number of dead men in searching the vessel? I had made a great fire, and its light was strong, and there was also the light of the land-thorn. But the furnace flames played very lively, completely over-mastering the steady illumination of the candle, and the man's figure was all a twitch with moving shadows, and a hundred fantastic shades seemed to steal out of the side and bulkheads and disappeared upon my terrified gaze. Then thought I, suppose after all that the man should be alive, the vitality in him set flowing by the heat. I minded myself of my own simile of the current checked by frost. Yet, retaining unimpaired the principle of motion, and getting my agitation under some small control, I approached the body on tiptoe, and held the land-thorn to its face. He looked a man of sixty years of age, his beard was gray and very long, and lay upon his breast like a cloud of smoke. His eyes were closed, his brows shaggy, and the dark scar of a sword wound ran across his forehead from the corner of the left eye to the top of the right brow. His nose was long and crooked, but the repose in his continence, backed by the vague character of the light in which I inspected him, left his face almost expressionless. I was too much alarmed to put my ear to his mouth to mark if he breathed, if indeed the noise of the burning fire would have permitted me to distinguish his respiration. I drew back from him, and put down the land-thorn and watched him. Thought I, it will not do to believe there is anything supernatural here. I can swear there is not living in this ship, and am I to suppose, assuming she is haunted, that a ghost, which I have already read and heard of as an essence, has in its shadowy being such quality of muscle as it would enable it to turn that heavy man over from his side onto his back? No, no, thought I. Depend upon it, either he is alive and may presently come to himself, or else in some wonderful way the fire in thawing him has so wrought in his frozen fibers as to cause him to turn. Presently, his left leg, that was slightly bent towards the furnace, stretched itself out to its full length, and my ear caught a faint sound, as of a weak and melancholy sigh. Gracious heaven thought I, he is alive, and with less of terror than of profound awe, now that I saw there was nothing of a ghostly or preternatural character in this business, I approached and bent over him. His eyes were still shut, and I could not hear that he breathed. There was not the faintest motion of respiration in his breast, nor stir in the hair that was now soft about his mouth. Yet, so far as the light would suffice me to judge, there was a complexion in his face such as could only come with flowing blood, however languid at circulation, and putting this and the sigh and the movement of the leg together, I felt convinced that the man was alive, and forthwith fell to work, very full of awe and amazement to be sure, to help nature that was struggling in him. My first step was to heat some brandy, and whilst this was doing, I pulled open his coat and freed his neck, fetching a coat from the cabin to serve as a pillow for his head. I next removed his boots and laid bare his feet, which were encased in no less than four pairs of thick woolen stockings, so that I thought when I came to the third pair I should find his legs made of stockings. And after bathing his feet in hot water, of which there was a kettleful, I rubbed them with hot brandy as hard as I could shave. I then dealt with his hands in the like manner. Having once been shipmate with the seaman who told me he had seen a sailor brought to by severe rubbing of his extremities after he had been carried below, supposed to be frozen to death, and continued this exercise till I could rub no longer. Next I opened his lips, and finding he wanted some of his front teeth, I very easily poured a dram of brandy into his mouth. Though I preserved my astonishment all this while, I soon discovered myself working with enthusiasm, with the most passionate longing indeed to recover the man. Not only because it pleased me to think of my being an instrument under God, of calling a human being, so to speak, out of his grave, but because I yearned for a companion, someone to address, to lighten the hideous solitude of my condition, and to assist me in planning our deliverance. I built up a great fire, and with much trouble, for he was very heavy, disposed him in such a manner before it that the heat was reflected all over the front of him, from his head to his feet. I likewise continued to chafe his extremities, remitting this work only to rest, and finding that the brandy had stolen down his throat. I poured another dram in, and then another, till I think he had swallowed a pint. This went on for an hour, during which time he never exhibited the least signs of life. But, on a sudden, he sighed deep, a tremor ran through him, he sighed again, and partly raised his right hand, which fell to the deck with a blow. His lips twitched, and a small convolution of his face compelled the features into the similitude of a grin that instantly faded. Then he fetched a succession of sighs and opened his eyes full upon me. I was warm enough with my work, but when I observed him looking at me, I turned of a death-like cold and felt the dew of an intolerable emotion wet in the palms of my hand. There was no speculation in his stare at first. His eyes lay as coldly upon me as those of a fish. But as life quickened in him, so was understanding awoke. He slightly knitted his brows, and very slowly rolled his gaze off me to the furnace, and so over as much of the cook-room as was before him. He then started as if to sit up, but fell back with a slight groan and looked at me again. What is this? he said in French, in a very hollow, feeble voice. I knew enough of his language to enable me to know he spoke French, but that was all. I could not speak a syllable of the tongue. You'll be feeling better presently. You must not expect your strength to come in a minute, said I, taking my chance of his understanding me, and speaking that he might not think me a ghost, for I doubt not I was as white as one, since to be plain, the mere talking to a figure that I had got to consider as surely dead as anybody in a graveyard was alarming enough. And then again there was a sound of my own voice, which I had not exerted in speech for ages, as it seemed to me. He faintly knotted his head, by which I perceived he understood me, and said very faintly in English, but with the true French accent. This is a hard bed, sir. I'll speedily mend that, said I, and at once fetched a mattress from the cabin next mine. This I placed beside him, and dragged him to it. He very weakly assisting. I then brought clothes and rugs to cover him with, and made him a high pillow, and as he lay close to the furnace he could not have been snugger had he had a wife to tuck him up in his own bed. I was very much excited. My former terrors had vanished, but my awe continued great. For I felt as if I had wrought a miracle. And I trembled as a man who surveyed some prodigy of his own creation. It was yet to be learnt how long he had been in this condition. But I was perfectly sure he had formed one of the schooner's people. And as I had guessed her to have been here for upwards of fifty years, the notion of that man having lain torpid for half a century held me under a perpetual spell of astonishment. But there was no more horror in me nor fright. He followed me about with his eyes, but did not offer to speak. Perhaps he could not. I put a lump of ice into the kettle, and when the water boiled made him a pint of steaming brandy punch, which I held to his lips in a panic, whilst I supported his back with my knee. He supped it slowly and painfully, but with unmistakable relish, and fetched a sigh of contentment as he lay back. But he would need something more sustaining than brandy and water. And as I guessed his stomach, after so prodigious a fast, would be too weak to support such solids as beef or pork or bacon. I amused a little, turning over in my mind the contents of the larder, as I call it, all which time he eyed me with bewilderment growing in his face. And I then thought I could not do better than manufacture him a broth of oatmeal, wine, bruised biscuit, and a piece of tongue minced very small. This did not take me long in doing, the tongue being near the furnace, and soft enough for the knife, and there was nothing to melt but the wine. When the broth was ready I kneeled as before and fed him. He ate greedily, and when the broth was gone looked as if he would have been glad for more. Now, sir, says I, sleep if you can, with which he turned his head, and in a few minutes was sound asleep, breathing regularly, and deeply. CHAPTER XV The watch showed the hour to be after six. Once my supper was preparing I went on deck to close the hatches, to keep the cold out of the ship, and found the weather changed, the wind having shifted directly into the west, whence it was blowing with a good deal of violence upon the ice, ringing over the peaks and among the rocks with a singular clanking noise in its crying. As though it brought with it the echo of thousands of bells peeling in some great city behind the sea. It also swept up the gorge that went from our hollow to the edge of the cliff in a noisy fierce hooting, and this blast was very freely charged with the spray of the breekers which boiled along the island. The sky was overcast with flying clouds of the true Cape Horn color and appearance. I closed the forescuttle, but on stepping aft came to the two bodies, the sight of which brought me to a stand. Since there was life in one, thought I, life may be in these, and I felt as if it would be like murdering them to leave them here for the night. But, said I to myself, after all, these men are certainly insensible if they be not dead. The cold that freezes on the deck cannot be different from the cold that throws them below. They'll not be better off in the cabin than here. It will be all the same to them, and tomorrow I shall perhaps have the Frenchman's help to carry them to the furnace and discover if the vital spark is still in them. To be candid, I was the more easily persuaded to leave them to their deck lodging by the very grim malignant and savage appearance of the great figure that had leaned against the rail. Indeed, I did not at all like the notion of such company in the cabin through the long night. Added to this, his bulk was such that, without assistance, I could only have moved him as you move a cask by rolling it. And though this might have answered to convey him to the hatch, I stood to break his arms and legs off and perhaps his head, so brittle was he with frost by letting his own weight trundle him down the ladder. So I left him to lie and came away, flinging a last look round and then closing the companion door upon me. The Frenchman, as I may call him, was sleeping very heavily and snoring loudly. I got my supper and wished I had served the mound of clothes he made on the deck, a motley heap indeed, with the collars and the finery of the lace and buttons of the coats I had piled upon him, and fell into some starkling considerations of him. Was it possible, I asked myself, that he could have lain in his frozen stupor for 50 years? But why not? For suppose he had been on this ice for a year or only, nay, six months, an absurdity in the face of the manifest age of the ship and her furniture. Would not six months of lifelessness, followed by a resurrection, be as marvelous as 50 years? Had he the same aspect when the swoon of the ice seized him as he has now? I answered yes, for the current of life having been frozen, his appearance would remain as it was. I lighted my pipe and sat smoking, thinking he would presently awake, but his slumber was as steep as the stillness I had thawed him out of had been, and he lay so motionless that, but for his snoring and harsh breathing, I should have believed him lapsed into his former state. At eight o'clock the fire was very low. Nature was working out her own way with this Frenchman, and I determined to let him sleep where he was, and take my chance of the night. At all events he could not alarm me by stirring, for if I heard a movement I should know what it was. So, loitering to see the last gleam of the fire extinguished, I took my lantern and went to bed, but not to sleep. The full meaning of the man awakening into life out of a condition into which he had been plunged, for all I knew, before I was born, came upon me very violently in the darkness. There being nothing to divert my thoughts, I gave my mind wholly to it, and I tell you I found it an amazing terrifying thing to happen. Indeed, I do not know that the like of such an adventure was ever before heard of, and I well recollect thinking to myself. I would give my left hand to know of the other cases of the kind, to be assured that this recovery was strictly within the bounds of nature, that I might feel I was not alone. So strongly did the thoughts of a satanic influence operating in this business crowd upon me, that is to say, as if I was involuntarily working out some plan of the devil. The gale made a great roaring, the ship's stern lay open to the gorge, and but for her steadiness I might have supposed myself at sea. There was indeed an incessant thunder about my ears, often accompanied by the shock of a mass of spray, flung thirty feet high, and falling like sacks of stones upon the deck. Once I felt the vessel rock, I cannot tell the hour, but it was long past midnight, and by the noise of the wind I guess it was blowing a whole gale. The movement was extraordinary, whether sideways or downwards I could not distinguish, but, seasoned as my stomach was to the motion of ships, this movement set up a nausea that lasted some while, acting upon me as I have since learned the convulsion of an earthquake dust upon people. It took off my mind from the Frenchman and filled me with a different sort of alarm altogether, for it was very evident the gale was making the ice break, and, thought I to myself, if we do not mind our eye, we shall be crushed and buried. But what was to be done, to quit the ship for that piercing flying gale, charged with sleet and hail and foam, was merrily to languish for a little and unmissurably expire of frost. No, thought I, if the end is to come, let it find me here, and with that I snogged me down amid the coats and cloaks in my cot, and, obstinately holding my eyes closed, ultimately fell asleep. It was late when I awoke. I lighted the lantern, but upon entering the passage that led to the cabin, I observed my own posture that the schooner had not only healed more to Larboard, but was further down by the stern, to the extent of several feet. Indeed, the angle of inclination was now considerable enough to bring my shoulder in the passage, close against the Starboard side when I stood direct. The noise of the gale was still in the air, and the booming and boiling of the sea was uncommonly loud. I walked straight to the cock-room, and, putting the lantern to the Frenchman, perceived that he was still in a heavy sleep, and that he had lain through the night precisely in the attitude in which I had left him. His face was so muffled that little more than his long hawk-spill nose was discernable. It was freezingly cold, and I made haste to light the fire. There was still cold enough in the corner to last for the day, and before long the furnace was blazing cheerfully. I went to work to make some broth and fry some ham, and melted a little block of the ruby-coloured wine, and Wilstas occupied, turning my head a moment to look at the Frenchman. I found him half started up, staring intently at me. This sudden confrontment threw me into such confusion that I could not speak. He moved his head from side to side, taking a view of the scene, with an expression of the most inimitable astonishment painted upon his countenance. He then brought the flat of his hand with a dramatic blow to his forehead, the scar on which showed black as ink to the fire-glow and sat erect. Where have I been? he exclaimed in French. Sir, as said I, speaking with the utmost difficulty, I do not understand your language. I am English. You speak my tongue. Will you address me in it? English, he exclaimed in English, dropping his head on one side, and peering at me with an incredible air of amazement. How came you here? You are not of our company? Let me see. Here we struggle with recollection, continuing to stare at me from under his shaggy eyebrows, as if I was some frightful vision. I am a shipwrecked British mariner, said I, and have been cast away upon these eyes where I found your schooner. Ha! he interrupted with prodigious vehemence. Certainly, we are frozen up, I remember. That sleep should serve my memory, so he made a sift to rise but sad again. The cold is numbing. It would weaken a lion. Give me a hot drink, sir. I filled a panikin with the melted wine, which he swallowed, thirstily. More, cried he, I seem to want life. Again, I filled a panikin. Good, said he, fetching a sigh as he returned a vessel. You are very obliging, sir. If you have food there, we will eat together. I gave the substance of his speech, but not his delivery of it, nor is it necessary that I should interpolate my rendering with the French words he used. The broth being boiled, I gave him a good bowl of it, along with a plate of bacon and ton, some biscuit and a panikin of hot brandy and water, all which things I put upon his knees as he set up on the mattress, and to it he fell, making a rare meal. Yet, all the while he ate, he acted like a man bewitched, as well he might, staring at me and looking round and round him, and then dropping his knife to strike his brow, as if by that cannot blow he would quicken the activity of memory there. There is something wrong, said he presently. What is it, sir? This is the cock room. How does it happen that I am lying here? I told him exactly how it was, adding that if it had not been for his posture, which obliged me to thaw in order to carry him, he would now be on deck with the others, awaiting the best funeral I could give him. Who are the others, asked he. I know not, said I. There were four in all, counting yourself, once it's frozen to death on the rocks. I met him first and took his watch from his pocket that I might tell the time. He took the watch in his hands, and asked me to bring the lantern close. Ha! cried he. This was Mendoza's the captain's. I remember. He took it for the sake of this letter upon it. He lies dead on the rocks. We missed him, but did not know where he had gone. Then, raising his hand, and imposterly staring upon the mattress, he cried, was he tapped his forehead. It has come back! I have it! Gusepp Treentonov! And I were in the cabin. He had fallen blind with the glare of the ice, if that was it. We confronted each other. On a sudden he screamed out. I had put my face into my arms and felt myself dying. His cry aroused me. I looked up, and saw him leaning back from the table with his eyes fixed and horror in his countenance. I was too feeble to speak, too languid to rise. I watched him awhile, and then the drowsiness stole over me again, and my head sank. And I remember no more. He shuddered, and I extended the panic in for more liquor. I filled it with two-thirds of brandy and the rest water, and he sapped it down as if it had been a thimble full of wine. By the holy cross, cried he. But this is very wonderful, though. How long have you been here, sir? Three days. Three days! And I have been in a stupor all that time. Never moving, never breathing. You will have been in a stupor longer than that, I expect, said I. What is this month? he cried. July, I replied. July? July! he muttered. Impossible! Let me see. He began to count on his fingers. We fell in with the ice, and got locked in November. We had six months of it. I recollect no more. Six months of it, sir. And suppose the stupor came upon me then. The month at which my memory stops would be April. Yet you call this July? That is to say, four months of oblivion. Impossible! What was the year in which you fell in with the ice, said I? The year he exclaimed in a voice deep with the wonder this question raised in him. The year? Why, man, what year but 1753? Good God! cried I, jumping to my feet with terror at the statement I had anticipated, so it shocked me as a new and frightful revelation. Do you know what year this is? he looked at me without answering. It is 1801, I cried. And as I said this, I recalled a step, fully expecting him to leap up and exhibit the hundred demonstrations of horror and consternation. For this I am persuaded it would have been my posture had any man aroused me from a slumber and told me I had been in that condition for eight and forty years. He continued to view me with a very strange and cunning expression in his eyes, the coolness of which was inexpressibly surprising and bewildering and even mortifying, then presently grasping his beard, looked at it, then put his hands to his face and looked at them, then drew out his feet and looked at them, then very slowly, but without visible effort, stood up, swaying a little with an air of weakness and proceeded to feel and strike himself all over, swinging his arms and using his legs, after which he sat down and pulled the clothes over his naked feet, and fixing his eyes on me a fresh head. What do you say this year is, sir? 1801, I replied. Baah, said he, and shook his head very knowingly. No matter, you have been shipwrecked too. Sir, shipwrecked soft shuffle states as a player does cards, and the best of us will go wrong in famine, loneliness, cold and peril. Be of good cheer, my friend, all will return to you. Sit, sir, that I may hear your adventures, and I will relate mine. I saw how it was. He supposed me deranged, a mortifying construction to place upon the language of a man who had restored him to life. Yet a few moments' reflection taught me to see the reasonableness of it, for unless he taught me crazy, he must conclude I spoke the truth, and it was inconceivable he should believe that he had lain in a frozen condition for eight and forty years. I stirred the fire to make more light and sat down near the furnace. His appearance was very striking. The scar upon his forehead gave a very dark sullen look to his brows. His eyes were small and were half lost in the dusky hollows in which they were set, and I observed an indescribable leering, cunning expression in them, something of which attributed to the large quantity of liquor he had swallowed. This contrasted oddly with the respectable aspect he took from his baldness, that is, from the nakedness of his pawl, for as I have before said, his hair fell long and plentiful, in a ring a little above the ears, so that you would have supposed that some late period of his life he had been sculpted. I know not how it was, but I felt no joy in this man's company. For some companion, for someone to speak with, I had yearned again and again with heartbreaking passion, and now a living man sat before me, yet I was sensible of no gladness. In truth, I was overawed by him, he frightened me as one risen from the dead. Here was a creature that had entered, as it seemed to me, those black portals from which no man ever returns, and had come back through my instrumentality after hard upon fifty years of the grave. Reason as I mighted it was all perfectly in nature, that there was nothing necromantic or diabolic in it, that it could not have happened had it not been natural. My spirits were as much oppressed and confounded by his sitting there alive, talking and watching me, as if, being truly dead, life had entered him on a sudden and he had risen and walked. I had no doubt the disorder my mind was in, helped to persuade him that I had not the full possession of my senses. He ran his eye over my figure, and then round the cock room, and said, I am impatient to learn your story, sir. Why, sir, said I, my story is summed up in what I have already told you, but that he might not be at a loss for to be sure that he had only very newly collected his intellects, I related my adventures at large. He drew nearer to the furnace whilst I talked, bringing his covering of clothes along with him, and held out his great hands to toast at the fire, all the time observing me with the scarce wink of the eye. Arrived at the end of my tail, I told him how only last night I had dragged his companion on deck, and how he was to have followed but for his posture. Ha! cried he. You might have caused my flesh to mortify Balaimi close to the fire. It would have been better to rub me with snow. He poked up one foot after the other to count his toes, fearing some had come away with his stockings, and then said, Well, and how long should I have slept had you not come. Another week. By Saint Paul I might have died. Have you my stockings, sir? I gave them to him, and he pulled them over his legs, and then drew on his boots, and stood up, the coats and wraps tumbling off him as he rose. I can stand, say, that is good. But in attempting to take a step he reeled, and would have fallen had I not grasped his arm. Patience, my friend, patience. He muttered as if to himself, I must lie a little longer, and with that he kneeled and then lay along the mattress. He breathed heavily and pointed to the panicking. I asked him whether he would have wine or brandy, he answered, Wine. So I melted a draught which those I thought on top of what he had already taken would send him to sleep, but instead it quickened his spirits, and with no lack of life in his voice he said, What is the condition of the vessel? I told him that she was still high and dry, adding that during the night some sort of change had happened which I should presently go on deck to remark. Think you, he said, that there is any chance of her ever being liberated. I answered, Yes, but not yet, that is, if the ice in breaking doesn't destroy her. The summer season has yet to come and we are progressing north, but now that you are with me it will be a question for us to settle, whether we are to wait for the ice to release the schooner or endeavor to effect our escape by other means. A curious gleam of cunning satisfaction shone in his eyes as he looked at me, he then kept silence for some moments lost in thought. Pray, said I, breaking in upon him, what ship is this? He started, deliberate and instant and answered, The Bocca del Dragón. A Spaniard? He nodded. She was a pirate, said I. How do you know that? he cried with a sudden fierceness. Sir, said I, I am a British shaler who has used the sea for some years, and know the difference between a hand spike and a poop lantern, but what matters? She is a pirate no longer. He let his eyes fall from my face and gazed round him with the air of one who cannot yet persuade his understanding of the realities of the scene he moves in. Oh! cried he presently, addressing himself. What matters to truth, as you say? Yes, the Bocca del Dragón is a pirate. You have of course rummaged her and guessed her character by what you found? I met with enough to excite my suspicion, said I. The ship's company of such a craft as this do not usually go cloaked in lace and rich cloaks, and carry watches of this kind, tapping my breast, in their fobs and handfuls of gold in their pockets. Unless, said he, unless I answer their flag is as black as their prospects. You think them black? cried he, the look of resentment that was darkening his face dying out of it. The vessel's sound is not she? I reply that she appeared so, but it would be impossible to be sure until she floated. The stores? They are plentiful. They should be, he cried. We have the liquor and stores of a galleon and two caracks in our hold, a port from what we originally laid in for the cruise. Everything will have been kept sweet by the cold. All the stores seem sound, said I. We shall not starve. No, not if we were to be imprisoned here for three years. But all the same our prospects are black, for here is the ship high and fixed. The ice imparting may crush her, and we have no boat. May, may, he cried with a Frenchman's vehemence. You have may, and you also have may not in your language. Let me feel my strength improving. We shall then find means of throwing a light upon these black prospects of yours. He smiled, or rather grinned, his thanks making the latter term fitter for the merciless grimace he made. May I ask your name, said I. Gilles Tazard, at your service, said he. Third in command of the Bocca del Dragón. But good as made Trentanov, and good as Captain Mendoza, and good as the cabin boy Fernando Prado. For we pirates are republicans, so we know no social distinctions, save those we order for the convenience of working ship. Now let me tell you the story of our disaster. We had come out of the Spanish main into the South Seas, partly to escape some British and French cruisers, which were after us and others of our kind, and partly because ill luck was against us, and we could not find our account in those waters. We sailed in December two years ago. Making the year I interrupted, he started and then grinned again. Ah, to be sure, cried he. This is 1801, but to keep my tale in continence, he went on in a satirical apologetic way. Let me call the year in which we sailed for the South Sea, 1751. What matters forty or fifty years to the shipwrecked? It's not one day of an open boat, with no society but the devils of memory, and no hope but the silence at the bottom of the sea, an eternity. Feel me that panic in my friend, I thank you. To proceed, we cruised some months in the South Sea and took a number of ships. One was a privateer that had plundered a British India man in the southern ocean, and had entered the South Sea by New Holland. This fellow was full of fine clothes and had some silver in her. We took what we wanted and let her go with her people under hatches, her yard square, her helm and midships, and her cabin on fire. Our maxim is no witnesses. That is the pirate's philosophy. Who gives us quarter unless it should be to hang us? But to continue, we did handsomely, but were a long time about it, and after careening and filling up with water, twigs and cardinals and chile, we set sail for the Antilles. Like your brig, we were blown south. The weather was ferocious, gale after gale thundered down upon us, forcing us to fly before it. We lost all reckoning of our position for days, for weeks. Sea and sky were enveloped in clouds of snow, in the heart of its drawer frozen sooner. We were none of us of the nationality fit to encounter these regions. We carried most of us the curly hair of the sun, the chocolate cheek of the burning sun, sone, and the ice shamed the crew, crouching like laskers below. We swept past many vast icebergs, which would leap on a sudden out of the white world of thickness. Often so close aboard that the recoil of the surge, striking against the mass, would flood our decks. At all moments of the day and night, we were prepared to feel the shock of the vessel, crushing her bows against one of the stupendous hills. The cabin resounded with salves and aves, which invocations to the saints, promises, curses, and litanies. The cove does not take men of the spaniards. Who are but indifferent seamen in temperate climes, and we were chiefly Spanish with consciences, as red as your English flag. He grinned, emptied the panicking, and stretched his hands to the fire to warm them. One morning, the weather having cleared somewhat, we found ourselves surrounded by ice. A great shame floated ahead of us, extending far into the south. The gale blew dead onto this coast. We durst not hauled the schooner to the wind, and our only chance lay in discovering some bay where you might find shelter. Such a bay it was my good luck to spy, lying directly in a line with the ship's head. It was formed of a great steep of ice, jutting a long way slantingly into the sea. The width between the point, and the main being about a third of a mile. I seized the helm, and shouted to the men to hoist the head of the mainsail, that she might round to when I put the helm down. But the fellows were in a panic terror, and stood gaping at what they regarded as the doom, curling upon the virgin and all the saints for help and mercy. Into this bay did we rush on top of a huge sea, Trentanov, and the captain and I swinging, with set teeth at the tiller that was hardly. She came round, but with such way upon her that she took a long shelving beach of ice, and ran it up to the distance of half her own length, and there she lay, with her rudder within touch of the wash of the water. The men, regarding the schooner as lost, and in concluding that if she went to pieces her boats would be destroyed, and with them their only chance to escape from the ice fell frantic and lost their wits altogether. They roared, to the boats, to the boats! The captain endeavored to bring them to their senses, he and I, and the mate, and Joan Barros, the boatswing, a Portuguese, went among them pistols in hand, and treating, cursing, threatening. Think of the plunder in this hold, will you abandon it without an effort to save it? What think you are the chances for the life in open boats in this sea? The schooner lies protected here, the weather will moderate presently, and we may then be able to slide her off. But reason as we would the cowardly dogs refused to listen, they had broached the spirit cask aft, and passed the liquor along the decks while they hosted the pinnests out of the hold, and got the other boats over. The drink maddened, yet left them wild with fear too, they would not wait to come at the treasure in the run. The foes believed the ship would tumble to pieces as she stood, but entered the forecastle and the officers' cabins, and routed the boat for whatever money and trinkets they might stuff into their pockets without loss of time, and then, provisioning the boats, they called us to join them, but we said no, on which they ran the boats down to the water, tumbled into them, and pulled away round a point of ice. We lost sight of them then, and I have little doubt that they all perished shortly afterwards. He ceased. I was anxious to hear more. You had been six months on the ice when the stupor fell upon you. A. About six months. The ice gathered about us and built us in. I recollect it was three days after we stranded that, going on deck. I saw the bay, as I term it, filled with ice. We drew up of several plans to escape and unsatisfied us. Besides, sir, we had a treasure on board which we had risked our necks to get, and we were prepared to go on imperiling our lives to save it. It was natural. We had a great store of coal, forwards and midships, for we had faced the horn in coming and knew what we had to expect in returning. We were also richly stocked with provisions and drink of all sorts. There were about four of us, and we dealt with what we had, as if we designed it should last us fifty years. But the cold was frightful. It was not in flesh and blood to stand it. One day, we had been locked up about five months. Mendoza said he would get upon the rocks and take a view of the sea. He did not return. The others were too weak to seek him. And they were half-blind besides. I went, but the ice was full of caves and hollows and the like, and I could not find him nor could I look for him long. The cold being the hand of death itself up there. The time went by. Trentonov went stone-blind, and I had to put food and drink into his hands that he might live. A week before the stupor came upon me, I went on deck and saw Joan Barros leaning at the rail. I called to him, but he made no reply. I approached and looked at him and found him frozen. Then happened what I have told you. We were in the cabin, the mate seated at the table, waiting for me to lead and support him to the cock-room, for he was so weak he could scarce carry his weight. A sudden faintness seized me, and I sank down upon the bench opposite him, letting my head fall upon my arms. His cry startled me. I looked up, saw him as I have said, but the cabin then turned black. My head sank again, and I remember no more. He passed and then cried in French, Daddy Saul, they are dead. Jules Tazard lives. The devil is loyal to his son, and with that he lay back and burst into laughter. And this, said I, was in 1753. Yes, he answered. And this is 1801, eight and forty years afterwards, hey? And he left out again. I've talked so much, said he, that, you know, I think another nap will do me good. What colds have you found in the ship? I told him. Good, he cried. We can keep ourselves warm for some time to come, anyhow. And so, saying, he pulled a rug up to his nose, and shot his eyes. End of chapter 15. By William Clark Russell. I lighted a pipe and sat pondering his story a little while. There was no doubt he had given me the exact truth so far as his relation of it went, as it was certain then that the Boca del Dragon, as she was called, had been fixed in the eyes for hard upon fifty years, the conclusion I formed was that she had been blown by some hundreds of leagues further south than the point to which the laughing merry had been driven, that this ice in which she was entangled was not then drifting northwards, but was in the grasp of some polar current that trended it southeasterly, that in due course it was carried to the Antarctic Main of Ice, where it lay compacted, after which, through stress of weather, or by the agency of a particular temperature, a great mass of it broke away and started on that northward course which bergs of all magnitude take when they are ruptured from the frozen continent. This theory may be disputed, but it matters not. My business is to relate what befell me. If I do my share honestly, the candid reader will not, I believe, quarrel with me for not being able to explain everything as I go along. The Frenchman snored, and I sat considering him. The impression he had made upon me was not agreeable. To be sure he had suffered heavily, and there was something not displeasing in the spirit he discovered in telling the story, a spirit I am unable to communicate, as it owed everything to French vivacity, largely spiced with devilment, and to sudden turns and ejaculations beyond the capacity of my pen to imitate. But a professional fierceness ran through it too. It was as if he had licked his chops when he talked of dismissing the captured ship with her people confined below in her cabin on fire. He had been as good as dead for nearly fifty years, yet he brought with him into life exactly the same qualities he had carried with him in his exit. Hence, I never now hear that expression taken from the Latin, of the dead speak nothing unless good, without despising it as an unworthy concession to sentiment. For I have not the least doubt in my mind that, despite of deathbed repentances and all the horrors with crowd upon the imagination of a bad man in his last moments, I say I have not the least doubt that of every hundred persons to die, ninety-nine of them, could they be raised from the dead, no matter how many years or even centuries they might have lain in their graves, would exhibit their original natures, and pursue exactly the same courses which made them loved, or scorned, or feared, or neglected before, which brought them to the gallows, or which qualified them to die in peace with faces brightening to the open heavens. If Nero did not again fire Rome, he would be equal to crimes as great, and desire nothing better than the opportunity for them. Caesar would again be the tyrant, and the sword of Brutus would once more fulfill its mission. Richard III would emerge in his winding sheet with the same humpback character in which he had expired, the queen of Scots returned warm to her gallantries, and the stewards repeat those blunders and crimes which terminated in the headsmen, or in banishment. But these are my thoughts of today. I was of another temper whilst I sat smoking and listening to the snoring of Monsieur Jules Tassard. Now that I had a companion, should I be able to escape from this horrid situation? He had spoken of chests of silver. Where was the treasure? In the run? There might be booty enough in the hold to make a great man a fine gentleman of me ashore. It would be a noble ending to an amazing adventure to come off with as much money as would render me independent for life, and enable me to turn my back forever upon the hardest calling to which the destiny of man can wed him. Of such were the fancies which hurried through my mind, coupled with visitations of awe and wonder when I cast my eyes upon the sleeping Frenchman. After all, it was ridiculous that I should feel mortified because he supposed me crazy in the matter of dates. How is it conceivable he should believe he had lain lifeless for eight and forty years? I knew a man who, after a terrible adventure, had slept for three days and nights without stirring. The assurances of the people about him failed to persuade him that he had slumbered so long, and it was not until he walked abroad and met a hundred evidences as to the passage of the time during which he had slept that he allowed himself to become convinced. I wished to see how the schooner lay and what change had befallen the ice in the night and went on deck. It was blowing a whole gale of wind from the northwest. Inside the ship, with the hatches on, and protected more over by the sides of the hollow in which she lay, it would have been impossible to guess at the weight of the gale, though all along I had supposed it to be storming pretty fiercely by the thunderous humming noise which resounded in the cabin. But I had no notion that so great a wind raged till I gained the deck and heard the prodigious bellowing of it above the rocks. The sky was one great cloud of slate, and there was no flying darkness or yellow scud to give the least movement of life to it. The sea was swelling very furiously, and I could divine its tempestuous character by clouds of spray which sped like volumes of steam under the sullen dusky heavens high over the mast heads. The schooner lay with a list of about fifteen degrees, and her bows high cocked. I looked over the stern and saw that the ice had sunk there, and that there were twenty great wrents and yawning seams where I had before noticed but one. A vast block of ice had fallen on the starboard side and lay so close on the quarter that I could have sprung onto it. No other marked changes were observable, but there were a hundred sounds to assure me that neither the sea nor the gale was wholly wasting its strength upon this crystal territory, and that if I thought proper to climb the slope and expose myself to the wind I should behold a face of ice somewhat different from what I had before gazed upon. But the bitter cold held me in dread, and there was no need besides for me to take a survey. All that concerned me lay in the hollow in which the schooner was frozen, but so far as the slopes were concerned I could see nothing to render me uneasy. The declivities were gradual, and there was little fear of even a violent convulsion throwing the ice upon us. The danger lay below, under the keel. If the ice split, then down would drop the ship and stave herself, or, if she escaped that peril, she must be so wedged as to render the least further pressure of the ice against her sides destructive. I was about to go below again, when my eye was taken by the two figures lying upon the deck. No dead bodies ever looked more dead, but after the wondrous restoration of the Frenchmen I could not view their forms without fancying that they were but as he had been, and that if they were carried to the furnace and treated with brandy and rubbing and the like they might be brought too. Full of thoughts concerning them I stepped into the cabin, and, going to the cookroom, found to sard still heavily sleeping. The coal in the corner was low, and as it wanted an hour of dinner time I took the landthorn in the bucket and went into the forepeak, and after several journeys stocked up a good provision of coal in the corner. I made noise enough, but to sard slept on. When this was ended I boiled some water to cleanse myself, and then sat about getting the dinner ready. The going into the forepeak had put my mind upon the treasure, which, as I had gathered from the Frenchman's narrative, was somewhere hidden in the schooner, in the run, as I doubted not. I mean in the hold, under the lazarette, for you will recollect that, being weary and half-perish with the coal, I had turned my back on that dark part after having looked into the powder room. All the time I was fetching the coal and dressing the dinner, my imagination was on fire with fancies of the treasure in the ship. The Frenchman had told me that they had been well enough pleased with their halls in the South Sea to resolve them upon heading round the horn for their haunt, wherever it might be, in the Spanish Main, and I had too good an understanding of the character of pirates to believe that they would have quitted a rich hunting field before they had handsomely lined their pockets. What, then, was the treasure in the run, if indeed it were there? I recalled a dozen stories of the doings of the bookeneers, not to speak of the famous Acapulco ship taken by Anson, a little before the year in which the Boca del Dragon was fishing in those waters. And I feasted my fancy with all sorts of sparkling dreams of gold and silver and precious stones, of the costly, aglestial furniture of New Spain, of which me thought I found a hint in that silver crucifix in the cabin of rings, sword-hills, watches, buckles, snuff-boxes, and the like. Lord thought I, that this island were of good, honest Mother Earth instead of ice, that we might bury the pirate's booty if we could not save the ship and make a princely mine of its grave ready for the Matic should we survive to fetch it. I was mechanically stirring the saucepan full of broth I had prepared, lost in these golden thoughts, when the Frenchman suddenly sat up on his mattress. Ha! cried he, sniffing vigorously. I smell something good, something I am ready for. There is no physique like sleep, and with that he stretched out his arms with a great yawn, then rose very agilely, kicking the clothes and mattress on one side and bringing a bench close to the furnace. What time is it, sir? Something after twelve by the captain's watch, said I, pulling it out and looking at it. But his guesswork time. See, captain's watch! cried he, with a short, loud laugh. You are modest, Mr... Paul Rodney, said I, seeing he stopped for my name. Yes, modest, Monsieur Paul Rodney. That watch is yours, sir, and you mean it shall be yours. Well, Mr. Tassard said I, coloring in spite of myself, though he could not witness the change in such a light as that, I felt this, that if I left the watch in the captain's pocket, it was bound to go to the bottom, ultimately, and BAH! he interrupted, with a violent flourish of the hand. Let us save this gunner, if possible. There will be more than one watch for your pocket, more than one tabloon for your purse. Meanwhile, to dinner. My stupor has converted me into an empty hoax head, and it will take me a fortnight of hard eating, to feel that I have broken my fast. With a blow of the chopper, he struck off a lump of the frozen wine, and then fell to, eating perhaps as a man might be expected to eat, who had not had a meal for eight and forty years. There are two of your companions on deck, said I. He started. Frozen, I continued. They'll be the bodies of Trentonov and Joan Barrows? He nodded. There's no reason why they should be deader than you were. It is true that Barrows had been on deck whilst you have been below, but after you pass a certain degree of cold, fiercer rigors cannot signify. What do you propose? He said, looking at me oddly, why that we should carry them to the fire, and rub them, and bring them to if we can. Why? I was staggered by his indifference, for I had believed he would have shown himself very eager to restore his old companions and shipmates to life. I was searching for an answer to his strange inquiry. Why? When he proceeded, first of all, my friend Trentonov was stone blind, and Barrows nearly blind. Unless you could return them their sight, with their life, they would curse you for disturbing them. Better is the blackness of death, than the blackness of life. There is the body of the captain, said I. He grinned. Let them sleep, said he. Do you know that they are cutthroats? Who would reward your kindness with the poignards that you might not tell tales against them, or claim a share of the treasure in this vessel? Of all desperate villains, I never met the like of Barrows. He loved blood, even betas and money. He'd quenched his thirst before an engagement with gunpowder mixed in brandy. I once saw him chook a man. He is very well. Leave him to his repose. In the glow of the fire, he looked uncommonly sardonic and wild, with his long beard, bald head, flowing hair, shaggy brows, and little cunning eyes, which seemed in their sight, which seemed in their smallness to share in his grin, and yet did not, and though to be sure he was someone to talk to and to make plans with for our escape. Yet I felt that if he were to fall into a stupor again, it would not be my hands that should chafe him into being. You knew those men in life, said I. If the others are of the same pattern as the Portuguese, by all means let them lie frozen. But my friend, said he, calling me mon ami, which I translate. That's not it either. Do you know the value of the booty in Ziscuna? I answered no. How was I to know it? I had met with nothing but wearing apparel and some pieces of money, and a few watches in the forecastle. He knitted his brows with a fierce suspicious gleam in his eyes. But you have searched the vessel, he cried. I have searched, as you call it, that is, I have crawled through the hold as far as the powder room. And further aft? No, not further aft. His countenance cleared. You scared me, said he, fetching a deep breath. I was afraid that someone had been beforehand with us. But it is not conceivable. No, we shall look for it presently, and we shall find it. Find what, Mr. Tassard, said I? He held up the fingers of his right hand. One, two, three, four, five. Five chests of plate and money. One, two, three. Three cases of virgin silver and ingots. One chest of gold ingots. One case of jewelry. In all, he paused to enter into a calculation, moving his lips briskly as he whispered to himself, between ninety and one hundred thousand pounds of your English money. I stifled the amazement, his words excited, and said coldly, You must have met with some rich ships. We did well, he answered. My memory is good. He counted afresh on his fingers. Ten cases in all. Fortune is a strange wench, Mr. Rodney. Who would think of finding her lodged on an Asperg? Now bring those asses up there to life, and you make us five. What would follow, thank you? What bodhis? He raised his beard and stroked his throat with the sharp of his hand. Then, swallowing a great draught of brandy, he rose and stopped to listen. It is blowing hard, said he. The other's better. I want to see this island knocked into birds. Every sea is as good as a pickaxe. Ark, there are those crackling noises I used to hear before I fell into a stupa. Where do you sleep? I told him. My birth is assured, said he. I wish to smoke, and we'll fish my pipe. He took the land thorn and went aft, acting as if he had left that birth an hour ago. And I understood in the face of this ready recurrence of his memory how impossible it would be ever to make him believe he had been practically lifeless since the year 1753. When he returned, he had on a hairy cap, with large covers for the ears, and a big flap behind that fell to below his collar, and was almost as long as his hair. He wanted but a couple of muskets and an umbrella to closely resemble Robinson Crusoe, as he is made to figure in most of the cuts I have seen. He produced a pipe of the Dutch pattern, with a bowl carved into a death's head, and great enough to hold a cake of tobacco. The skull might have been a child's for size, and though it was dyed with tobacco juice in the top blackened, with the live coals which had been held to it, it was so finely carved that it looked very ghastly and terribly real in his hand as he sat puffing at it. He eyed me steadfastly while he smoked, as if critically taking stock of me, and presently said, The devil hath an odd way of ordering matters. What particular merit have I that I should have been the one hit upon by you, too? Had you brought any one of the others, too, he would have advised you against reviving us, and so I should have passed out of my frosty sleep and to death as quietly I, and as painlessly, as that puff of smoke melts into clear air. Then perhaps you do not think you are bludged by my awakening you to life, said I? Yes, my friend, I am much obliged, said he with vivacity. Any fool can die. To live is the true business of life. Mark what you do. You make me no tobacco again. You enable me to eat and drink, and these things are pleasures which were denied me in that cabin there. You recall me to the enjoyment of my gains, nay, of more, of my own and the gains of our company. You make me, as you make yourself, a rich man. The world opens before me anew, and very brilliantly, to be sure, I am obliged. The world is certainly before you as it is before me, said I, but that's all. We have got to get there. He flourished his pipe, and was like the flight of death through the gloomy, fired, tinctured air. That must come. We are, too. Yesterday you were one, and that can understand your despair. But these arms, stupa, has not wasted so much as the dark line of a fingernail of muscle. You, too, are no girl. Courage! Between us we shall manage. How long is it since you sailed from England? We sailed last month a year from the Thames for Calau. And what is the news, said he, taking a penicane of wine from the oven and sipping it? Last year? These twelve years since I was in Paris, and three years since we had news from Europe. News, thought I, to tell this man the news, as he calls it, would oblige me to travel over fifty years of history. Why, Mr. Tissard, said I, there's plenty of things happening, you know, for Europe's full of kings and queens, and two or more of them are nearly always at loggerheads. But sailors, merchant men like myself, hear little of what goes on. We know the name of our own sovereign, and what wages sailors are getting, that's about it, sir. In fact, at this moment, I could tell you more about Chile and Peru than England and France. Is there a will between our nations? he said. Yes, said I. Ha! he cried. I doubt if this time you will come off so easily. You have good men in Orkin Hansen. He shook his head knowingly, and an air of complacency that would be indescribable but for the word French, overspread his face. I knew the name of Jean Kier as an admiral who had fought us in 1748, or thereabouts, of the others I had never heard. But I held my peace, which I suppose he put down to good manners, for he changed the subject by asking if I was married. I answered, no, and inquired if he had a wife. A wife, cried he. What should the man of my calling do with a wife? No, no. We guess as such flowers as we want of the high seas, and wear them till the perfume palls. They prove stubborn, though. Our graces are not always relished. Trentonov reckoned himself the most killing among us, and by St. Barnabas he proved so, for three ladies, passengers of beauty and distinction, slew themselves for his sake. Do you understand me? They preferred the knife to his addresses. Ah, he said he, tapping his breast and grinning, was always fortunate. He looked a complete satyr as he thus spoke, with his hairy cap, grey beard, long nose, little cunning, shining eyes, and broken fangs, and a chill of disgust came upon me. But I had already seen enough of him to understand that he was a man of a very formidable character, and that he had awakened after eight and forty years of insensibility as real a pirate at heart as ever he had been, and that it therefore behoove me to deal very rarely with him, and above all, not to let him suspect my thoughts. Yet he seemed a person superior to the calling he had adopted. His English was good, and his articulation indicated a quality of breeding. Whilst he smoked his pipe out, he told me a story of an action between this schooner and a French indian man. I will not repeat it. It was mere butchery with features of diabolic cruelty, but what affected me more violently than the horrors of the narrative was his cool and easy recital of his own, and the deeds of his companions. You saw that he had no more conscious in him than the death's head he puffed at, and that his idea was there was no true greatness to be met without of enormity. Well, thought I, as I stepped to the corner for some coal, if I was afraid of this creature when he was dead, to what condition of mind shall I be reduced by his being alive?