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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"A Tale Of The Forecastle"

The cook yelled....
"Your days are numbered!... "--"Get out of this," boomed Wait,
courageously.--"Pray with me!... "--"I won't!..." The little cabin
was as hot as an oven. It contained an immensity of fear and pain; an
atmosphere of shrieks and moans; prayers vociferated like blasphemies
and whispered curses. Outside, the men called by Charley, who informed
them in tones of delight that there was a holy row going on in Jimmy's
place, crowded before the closed door, too startled to open it. All
hands were there. The watch below had jumped out on deck in their
shirts, as after a collision. Men running up, asked:--"What is it?"
Others said:--"Listen!" The muffled screaming went on:--"On your knees!
On your knees!"--"Shut up!"--"Never! You are delivered into my hands....
Your life has been saved.... Purpose.... Mercy.... Repent."--"You are a
crazy fool!..."--"Account of you... you... Never sleep in this world,
if I..."--"Leave off."--"No!... stokehold... only think!..." Then
an impassioned screeching babble where words pattered like hail.--"No!"
shouted Wait.--"Yes. You are!... No help.... Everybody says so."--"You
lie!"--"I see you dying this minnyt.


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