five miles) is the ship's destination; the consul would soon set
about catching me; and there would have been no object in bolting
to these islets there. I don't suppose there's a drop of water on
them. I don't know how it was, but to-night that steward, after
bringing me my supper, went out to let me eat it, and left the door
unlocked. And I ate it--all there was, too. After I had finished
I strolled out on the quarterdeck. I don't know that I meant to do
anything. A breath of fresh air was all I wanted, I believe. Then
a sudden temptation came over me. I kicked off my slippers and was
in the water before I had made up my mind fairly. Somebody heard
the splash and they raised an awful hullabaloo. 'He's gone! Lower
the boats! He's committed suicide! No, he's swimming.' Certainly
I was swimming. It's not so easy for a swimmer like me to commit
suicide by drowning. I landed on the nearest islet before the boat
left the ship's side. I heard them pulling about in the dark,
hailing, and so on, but after a bit they gave up. Everything
quieted down and the anchorage became as still as death. I sat
down on a stone and began to think. I felt certain they would
start searching for me at daylight. There was no place to hide on
those stony things--and if there had been, what would have been the
good? But now I was clear of that ship, I was not going back. So
after a while I took off all my clothes, tied them up in a bundle
with a stone inside, and dropped them in the deep water on the
outer side of that islet. That was suicide enough for me. Let
them think what they liked, but I didn't mean to drown myself. I
meant to swim till I sank--but that's not the same thing. I struck
out for another of these little islands, and it was from that one
that I first saw your riding-light. Something to swim for. I went
on easily, and on the way I came upon a flat rock a foot or two
above water. In the daytime, I dare say, you might make it out