space, the close contact, the imminent menace of the waves, seem to draw
men together, in spite of madness, suffering and despair. But there
was a ship--safe, convenient, roomy: a ship with beds, bedding, knives,
forks, comfortable cabins, glass and china, and a complete cook's
galley, pervaded, ruled and possessed by the pitiless spectre of
starvation. The lamp oil had been drunk, the wicks cut up for food, the
candles eaten. At night she floated dark in all her recesses, and full
of fears. One day Falk came upon a man gnawing a splinter of pine wood.
Suddenly he threw the piece of wood away, tottered to the rail, and fell
over. Falk, too late to prevent the act, saw him claw the ship's side
desperately before he went down. Next day another man did the same
thing, after uttering horrible imprecations. But this one somehow
managed to get hold of the broken rudder chains and hung on there,
silently. Falk set about trying to save him, and all the time the man,
holding with both hands, looked at him anxiously with his sunken eyes.
Then, just as Falk was ready to put his hand on him, the man let go his
hold and sank like a stone. Falk reflected on these sights. His heart
revolted against the horror of death, and he said to himself that he
would struggle for every precious minute of his life.

One afternoon--as the survivors lay about on the after deck--the
carpenter, a tall man with a black beard, spoke of the last sacrifice.
There was nothing eatable left on board. Nobody said a word to this; but
that company separated quickly, these listless feeble spectres slunk
off one by one to hide in fear of each other. Falk and the carpenter
remained on deck together. Falk liked the big carpenter. He had been the
best man of the lot, helpful and ready as long as there was anything to
do, the longest hopeful, and had preserved to the last some vigour and
decision of mind.

They did not speak to each other. Henceforth no voices were to be heard
conversing sadly on board that ship. After a time the carpenter tottered
away forward; but later on, Falk going to drink at the fresh-water pump,
had the inspiration to turn his head. The carpenter had stolen upon him
from behind, and, summoning all his strength, was aiming with a crowbar
a blow at the back of his skull.

Dodging just in time, Falk made his escape and ran into his cabin. While
he was loading his revolver there, he heard the sound of heavy blows
struck upon the bridge. The l