A green damp mould covered his cheek and forehead, and
hung in a ghastly fringe over his open eyes. The man was a frozen
corpse!
Terrified at the sight, I fled up the stairs with my heart wildly
beating. Regaining the deck I looked about me, but there was no
sign of life anywhere on the ship. Afraid to make any further
search, I clambered down into the Falcon and rushed below. I cast
myself before the fire, trembling and unable to realize anything
for the mortal fear that was upon me. I tried to forget the sight
of that face of death, with its horribly grim and mouldy features,
but it haunted me with terrible clearness.
I roused up my fire and made some strong tea, and, drinking it, I
wondered why I had not thought of pushing off the schooner from
this death ship. It was now growing dark, and the thought of
spending a whole night alone in the near presence of dead men,
whose ghosts, for all I knew, might visit me, filled my mind with
strange and awful fancies. Even the sound of the wind whispering in
the ropes struck me with nervous fear. But the drink of tea and
what little I ate helped to revive my spirits, and gradually my
sense of awe was overcome by a curiosity that came upon me--a
curiosity to go aboard the vessel again and discover something more
of her singular condition.
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