--"Why, of course he will die," he said deliberately. This
seemed decisive. It was promptly imparted to every one by him who had
consulted the oracle. Shy and eager, he would step up and with averted
gaze recite his formula:--"Old Singleton says he will die." It was a
relief! At last we knew that our compassion would not be misplaced, and
we could again smile without misgivings--but we reckoned without Donkin.
Donkin "didn't want to 'ave no truck with 'em dirty furriners." When
Nilsen came to him with the news: "Singleton says he will die," he
answered him by a spiteful "And so will you--you fat-headed Dutchman.
Wish you Dutchmen were all dead--'stead comin' takin' our money inter
your starvin' country." We were appalled. We perceived that after all
Singleton's answer meant nothing. We began to hate him for making fun
of us. All our certitudes were going; we were on doubtful terms with
our officers; the cook had given us up for lost; we had overheard the
boatswain's opinion that "we were a crowd of softies." We suspected
Jimmy, one another, and even our very selves. We did not know what
to do. At every insignificant turn of our humble life we met Jimmy
overbearing and blocking the way, arm-in-arm with his awful and veiled
familiar.
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