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Dead Men Tell No Tales by E. W. (Ernest William) Hornung
page 37 of 214 (17%)
dishes! Earlier, this had occupied my mind an hour; now I dismissed
it in a moment; there was Eva, I must live for her; there must be
ways of living at least a day or two without sustenance, and I must
think of them.

So I undid that belt of mine which fastened me to my gridiron, and
I straddled my craft with a sudden keen eye for sharks, of which I
never once had thought until now. Then I tightened the belt about
my hollow body, and just sat there with the problem. The past hour
I had been wholly unobservant; the inner eye had had its turn; but
that was over now, and I sat as upright as possible, seeking
greedily for a sail. Of course I saw none. Had we indeed been off
our course before the fire broke out? Had we burned to cinders
aside and apart from the regular track of ships? Then, though my
present valiant mood might ignore the adverse chances, they were as
one hundred to a single chance of deliverance. Our burning had
brought no ship to our succor; and how should I, a mere speck amid
the waves, bring one to mine?

Moreover, I was all but motionless; I was barely drifting at all.
This I saw from a few objects which were floating around me now at
noon; they had been with me when the high sun rose. One was, I
think, the very oar which had been my first support; another was a
sailor's cap; but another, which floated nearer, was new to me,
as though it had come to the surface while my eyes were turned
inwards. And this was clearly the case; for the thing was a drowned
and bloated corpse.

It fascinated me, though not with extraordinary horror; it came too
late to do that. I thought I recognized the man's back. I fancied
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