In the Sargasso Sea: A NovelJanvier, Thomas A. (Thomas Allibone)
Science
In the Sargasso Sea: A Novel
Janvier, Thomas A. (Thomas Allibone)
Science fiction
I never had seen anything like that, and as I looked at the dead
man--he was a big strong coarse fellow, dressed in a pair of dirty
sail-cloth trousers and in a dirty checked shirt--I went so queasy and
giddy that I had to step back a little and lean for a while against
the steamer's rail. It was clear enough that he had died fighting. His
face had a bad cut on it and there was another on his neck, and his
hands were cut cruelly, as though he had caught again and again at a
sharp knife in trying to keep it away from him; but the stab that had
finished him was in his breast, showing ghastly as he lay on his back
with his shirt open--and no doubt it was as the knife went into him
there that he had uttered the cry of mortal agony which had come to me
through the darkness, with so thrilling a note in it, while I was
sitting in bright comfort drowsily smoking my cigar. And then, as I
remembered my drowsiness, for a moment I seemed to get back into
it--and I had a half hope that perhaps what I was looking at was only
a part of a horrible dream.
Had there been any sign of a living man about, of the murderer as well
as the murdered, I should have been less broken by what I saw; for
then I should have had something practical to attend to--either in
bringing the other man to book on the poor dead fellow's account, or
in fighting him on my own. But the nearest thing to life in sight, on
that storm-swept hulk under the low-hanging golden haze, was the rough
body out of which life had but just gone forever; and the bloody
stains everywhere on the deck showing that he and another must have
been fighting pretty much all over it before they got to an end. And
the horror of it all was the stronger because of the awful and
hopeless loneliness: with the dead-still weed-covered ocean
stretching away to the horizon on the one hand, and on the other only
dead ships tangled and crushed together going off in a desolate
wilderness that grew fainter--but for its faintness all the more
despairing--until it was lost in the dun-gold murky thickness of
the haze.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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