What could they be doing? Perhaps, I thought, they were
all below decks.
I climbed upon the Falcon's gunwale and looked through an open
porthole into the vessel's after cabin. I saw there a man seated at
a table, with his back towards me, apparently writing.
"Hello in there! D'ye keep no watch aboard?" I cried.
He appeared not to hear me, but held the pen in his hand as though
in deep meditation.
I clambered up the vessel's side and got over the quarter rail,
taking with me the end of a stout rope with which to secure the two
ships together. The snow was deep on the stranger's decks, and bore
no trace of footsteps. All was quiet. .
I crossed over to the companion ladder, and found my way down to
the door of the cabin. I knocked with my knuckles, but no voice
answered, and I went within. The man still sat at the table,
without turning at my entrance. The atmosphere was cold and musty;
there was no fire in the stove, although yet another man sat
crouched before it. I went behind the man at the table and touched
him on the shoulder.
"D'ye not hear me, sir?" I said. "Are ye deaf? or what has gone
wrong?"
He did not move.
I looked down into his face.
"Heavens!" I exclaimed, drawing back in horror at the grim sight.
What did it mean? I made bold to look again, though I felt myself
trembling.
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