ym, did I not?"

"Yes," answered West, sternly; "and what have you to say about
Arthur Pym?"

"I have to say that he must not be abandoned."

"Abandoned!" I exclaimed.

"No, never! It would be cruel--too cruel. We must go to seek
him."

"To seek him?" repeated Captain Len Guy.

"Understand me; it is for this that I have embarked on the
_Halbrane_--yes, to find poor Pym!"

"And where is he," I asked, "if not deep in a grave, in the
cemetery of his natal city?"

"No, he is in the place where he remained, alone, all alone,"
continued Hunt, pointing towards the south; "and since then the
sun has risen on that horizon seven times."

It was evident that Hunt intended to designate the Antarctic
regions, but what did he mean by this?

"Do you not know that Arthur Pym is dead?" said the captain.

"Dead!" replied Hunt, emphasizing the word with an expressive
gesture. "No! listen to me: I know things; understand me, he is
not dead."

"Come now, Hunt," said I, "remember what you do know. In the
last chapter of the adventures of Arthur Pym, does not Edgar Poe
relate his sudden and deplorable end?"

"Explain yourself, Hunt," said the captain, in a tone of
command. "Reflect, take your time, and say plainly whatever you
have to say."

And, while Hunt passed his hand over his brow, as though to collect
his memory of far-off things, I observed to Captain Len Guy,--

"There is something very singular in the intervention of this man,
if indeed he be not mad."

At my words the boatswain shook his head, for he did not believe
Hunt to be in his right mind.

The latter understood this shake of the boatswain's head, and
cried out in a harsh tone,--

"No, not mad. And madmen are respected on the prairies, even if
they are not believed. And I--I must be believed. No, no, no! Pym
is not dead!"

"Edgar Poe asserts that he is," I replied.

"Yes, I know, Edgar Poe of Baltimore. But--he never saw poor Pym,
never, never."

"What?" exclaimed Captain Len Guy; "the two men were not
acquainted?"

"No!"

"And it was not Arthur Pym himself who related his adventures to
Edgar Poe?"

"No, captain, no! He, below there, at Baltimore, had only the
notes written by Pym from the day when he hid himself on board the
_Grampus_ to the very last hour--the last--understand me the last."

"Who, then, brought back that journal?" asked Captain Len Guy,
as he seized Hunt's hand.

"It was Pym's companion, he who loved him, his poor Pym