hamming sick, had been malingering
heartlessly in the face of our toil, of our scorn, of our patience--and
now was malingering in the face of our devotion--in the face of death.
Our vague and imperfect morality rose with disgust at his unmanly lie.
But he stuck to it manfully--amazingly. No! It couldn't be. He was at all
extremity. His cantankerous temper was only the result of the provoking
invincible-ness of that death he felt by his side. Any man may be angry
with such a masterful chum. But, then, what kind of men were we--with
our thoughts! Indignation and doubt grappled within us in a scuffle that
trampled upon the finest of our feelings. And we hated him because of
the suspicion; we detested him because of the doubt. We could not scorn
him safely--neither could we pity him without risk to our dignity. So
we hated him and passed him carefully from hand to hand. We cried, "Got
him?"--"Yes. All right. Let go."

And he swung from one enemy to another, showing about as much life as an
old bolster would do. His eyes made two narrow white slits in the black
face. The air escaped through his lips with a noise like the sound
of bellows. We reached the poop ladder at last, and it being a
comparatively safe place, we lay for a moment in an exhausted heap to
rest a little. He began to mutter. We were always incurably anxious to
hear what he had to say. This time he mumbled peevishly, "It took you
some time to come! I began to think the whole smart lot of you had been
washed overboard. What kept you back? Hey? Funk?" We said nothing. With
sighs we started again to drag him up. The secret and ardent desire of
our hearts was the desire to beat him viciously with our fists about
the head; and we handled him as tenderly as though he had been made of
glass....

The return on the poop was like the return of wanderers after many years
amongst people marked by the desolation of time. Eyes were turned slowly
in their sockets, glancing at us. Faint murmurs were heard, "Have you
got 'im after all?" The well-known faces looked strange and familiar;
they seemed faded and grimy; they had a mingled expression of fatigue
and eagerness. They seemed to have become much thinner during our
absence, as if all these men had been starving for a long time in their
abandoned attitudes. The captain, with a round turn of a rope on his
wrist, and kneeling on one knee, swung with a face cold and stiff; but
with living eyes he was still holding the ship u