he deep.

The red glow fades from the west, and the moon swings upward, flooding
the sea with silver light. Away southward lies a black streak on the
sky-line and the windsail flickers a little. The two sailors have
finished sewing, and go aft. A fireman breaks the deck silence as he
hoists two firebars up from the for'ard stokehold and carries them
aft. Up on the poop, under the awning, the Second Mate has removed the
hand-rails on the starboard quarter, and the carpenter is lashing some
hatches in an inclined position.

We by the engine-room door are silent, for there is nothing to say. We
wait for the _Stand by_ bell in silence. A heavy footfall, and the
Skipper, his bronzed face hard-drawn, his snowy hair uncovered, passes
us. I think, even now, he is sorry for that sneer at his wife's little
trick. He is going to get the Prayer Book that lies close to his
revolver in his chest.

George and I go below and make all ready. I think the Second is glad
of our company, in the terrible heat. We potter about in silence: then
"_Stand by--Half--Slow--Stop_." A few minutes' swift toil, a hurried
wash, and we climb up on deck again into the moonlight. A white,
silent world of waters is about us as we join the crew going aft to
the poop. The awning has been partly folded back, and we see the
Skipper resting his book on the tiller-gear, while the Steward stands
by with a lantern. I look curiously into the faces I know so well,
seeking, in the presence of death, a little more knowledge of life. I
look at the Skipper, with his white hair and fierce moustache gleaming
in the silver radiance of the moon, his hands fumbling with the
leaves of the book. I look at the Chief, fidgeting about in the rear,
meeting no one's eye, his mouth working nervously. I look at George
the Fourth; he is staring like a schoolboy at the flag-covered thing
on the hatch, with the firebars lashed to its sides. And then the
silence is broken by the harsh, unsteady voice:

"_I am the resurrection and the life._"

The tension is almost unbearable now. We have not been educated to
this. We are like soldiers suddenly flung into the face of the enemy.

"_We therefore commit his body to the deep, to be turned into
corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body (when the sea
shall give up her dead), and the life of the world to come, through
our Lord Jesus Christ; who at his coming shall change our vile body
that it may be like his glorious body, accor