I caught a glimpse of a
white face glaring at me from the interior: in a second a figure shot
out, fled with incredible speed toward the bow, and leaped into the sea
just where our boat lay.
"They'll pick him up," I exclaimed. "Stop a second;" and I entered
the house and stooped over the figure of the man on the deck.
I was not familiar with death, and yet I knew it was here. I cannot
describe the signs in his face; but such as they were, they told me the
truth. I noticed a ring upon his finger, and that his clothes were
good. His hair was black, and his features well shaped, though his
face had a half-convulsed expression, as if something frightful had
appeared to him, and he had died of the sight of it.
"This wreck must be his coffin," I said. "He is a corpse. We can do
no more."
We scrambled for the last time along the life-line and got into the
fore-chains; but to our consternation, saw the boat rowing away from
the wreck. However, the fit of rage and terror that possessed me
lasted but a moment or two; for I now saw they were giving chase to the
madman, who was swimming steadily away. Two of the men rowed, and the
third hung over the bows, ready to grasp the miserable wretch.
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