ad gone to live at
the Falklands under the name of Hunt after leaving Illinois?

I put the question to him, and he replied,--

"It is not that; no, it is not that I wish--"

"I insist, Dirk Peters, and I desire to know in the first place
for what reason you did not remain in America, for what reason you
chose the Falklands--"

"For what reason, sir? Because I wanted to get near Pym, my poor
Pym--beeause I hoped to find an opportunity at the Falklands of
embarking on a whaling ship bound for the southern sea."

"But that name of Hunt?"

"I would not bear my own name any longer--on account of the
affair of the _Grampus_."

The half-breed was alluding to the scene of the "short straw"
(or lot-drawing) on board the American brig, when it was decided
between Augustus Barnard, Arthur Pym, Dirk Peters, and Parker, the
sailor, that one of the four should be sacrificed--as food for the
three others. I remembered the obstinate resistance of Arthur Pym,
and how it was impossible for him to refuse to take his the tragedy
about to be performed--he says this himself--and the horrible act
whose remembrance must poison the existence of all those who had
survived it.

Oh, that lot-drawing! The "short straws" were little splinters
of wood of uneven length which Arthur held in his hand. The shortest
was to designate him who should be immolated. And he speaks of the
sort of involuntary fierce desire to deceive his corn that he
felt--"to cheat" is the word he uses--but he did not
"cheat," and he asks pardon for having had the idea! Let us try
to put ourselves in his place!

He made up his mind, and held out his hand, closed on the four
slips. Dirk Peters drew the first. Fate favoured him. He had nothing
more to fear. Arthur Pym calculated that one more chance was against
him. Augustus Barnard drew in his turn. Saved, too, he! And now
Arthur Pym reckoned up the exact chances Parker and himself. At that
moment all the ferocity the tiger entered into his soul. He
conceived an intense and devilish hatred of his poor comrade, his
fellow-man.

Five minutes elapsed before Parker dared to draw. At length Arthur
Pym, standing with closed eyes, not knowing whether the lot was for
or against him, felt a hand seize his own. It was the hand of Dirk
Peters. Arthur Pym had escaped death. And then the half-breed upon
Parker and stabbed him in the back. The frightful repast
followed--immediately--and words are not sufficient to convey to
the