He turned over; his dreadful face stared upwards; it was the chief officer, sure enough. Then he clove the water with a rush, his dead hand waved, the last of him to disappear; and I had a new horror to think over for my sins. His poor fingers were all broken and beaten to a pulp.
The voices of the night came back to me - the curses and the cries. Yes, I must have heard them. In memory now I recognized the voice of the chief mate,
He turned over; his dreadful face stared upwards; it was the chief officer, sure enough. Then he clove the water with a rush, his dead hand waved, the last of him to disappear; and I had a new horror to think over for my sins. His poor fingers were all broken and beaten to a pulp.
The voices of the night came back to me - the curses and the cries. Yes, I must have heard them. In memory now I recognized the voice of the chief mate,
