passively exist in some Nirvana of his own
creating.

Next I remembered the self-wounded Greek, sewed up by Mr. Pike and lying
gibbering between the steel walls of the 'midship-house. This picture
almost decided me, for in my fevered imagination he typified the whole
mad, helpless, idiotic crew. Certainly I could go back to Baltimore.
Thank God I had the money to humour my whims. Had not Mr. Pike told me,
in reply to a question, that he estimated the running expenses of the
_Elsinore_ at two hundred dollars a day? I could afford to pay two
hundred a day, or two thousand, for the several days that might be
necessary to get me back to the land, to a pilot tug, or any inbound
craft to Baltimore.

I was quite wholly of a mind to go down and rout out Captain West to tell
him my decision, when another presented itself: _Then are you_, _the
thinker and philosopher_, _the world-sick one_, _afraid to go down_, _to
cease in the darkness_? Bah! My own pride in my life-pridelessness
saved Captain West's sleep from interruption. Of course I would go on
with the adventure, if adventure it might be called, to go sailing around
Cape Horn with a shipload of fools and lunatics--and worse; for I
remembered the three Babylonish and Semitic ones who had aroused Mr.
Pike's ire and who had laughed so terribly and silently.

Night thoughts! Sleepless thoughts! I dismissed them all and started
below, chilled through by the cold. But at the chart-room door I
encountered Mr. Mellaire.

"A pleasant evening, sir," he greeted me. "A pity there's not a little
wind to help us off the land."

"What do you think of the crew?" I asked, after a moment or so.

Mr. Mellaire shrugged his shoulders.

"I've seen many queer crews in my time, Mr. Pathurst. But I never saw
one as queer as this--boys, old men, cripples and--you saw Tony the Greek
go overboard yesterday? Well, that's only the beginning. He's a sample.
I've got a big Irishman in my watch who's going bad. Did you notice a
little, dried-up Scotchman?"

"Who looks mean and angry all the time, and who was steering the evening
before last?"

"The very one--Andy Fay. Well, Andy Fay's just been complaining to me
about O'Sullivan. Says O'Sullivan's threatened his life. When Andy Fay
went off watch at eight he found O'Sullivan stropping a razor. I'll give
you the conversation as Andy gave it to me:

"'Says O'Sullivan to me, "Mr. Fay, I'll have a word wid yeh?"
"Certainly," say