and the preparation for stowing the bodies in the jolly-boat left
them unnerved and sick. Some sort of a meal was cooked, but no one
could eat; Williams brought up, untasted, the luncheon he had carried
down to the after house.

At two o'clock all hands gathered amidships, and the bodies were
carried forward to where the boat, lowered in its davits and braced,
lay on the deck. It had been lined with canvas and tarpaulin, and
a cover of similar material lay ready to be nailed in place. All
the men were bareheaded. Many were in tears. Miss Lee came forward
with us, and it was from her prayer-book that I, too moved for
self-consciousness, read the burial-service.

"I am the resurrection and the life," I read huskily.

The figures at my feet, in their canvas shrouds, rolled gently with
the rocking of the ship; the sun beat down on the decks, on the bare
heads of the men, on the gilt edges of the prayer-book, gleaming in
the light, on the last of the land-birds, drooping in the heat on
the main cross-trees.

". . . For man walketh in a vain shadow," I read, "and disquieteth
himself in vain . . . .

"O spare me a little, that I may recover my strength: before I go
hence, and be no more seen."