“However, I came up to him by the time the stars were fairly out.  As it got darker I began to see all manner of glowing things in the water—­phosphorescence, you know.  At times it made me giddy.  I hardly knew which was stars and which was phosphorescence, and whether I was swimming on my head or my heels.  The canoe was as black as sin, and the ripple under the bows like liquid fire.  I was naturally chary of clambering up into it.  I was anxious to see what he was up to first.  He seemed to be lying cuddled up in a lump in the bows, and the stern was all out of water.  The thing kept turning round slowly as it drifted—­kind of waltzing, don’t you know.  I went to the stern, and pulled it down, expecting him to wake up.  Then I began to clamber in with my knife in my hand, and ready for a rush.  But he never stirred.  So there I sat in the stern of the little canoe, drifting away over the calm phosphorescent sea, and with all the host of the stars above me, waiting for something to happen.

“After a long time I called him by name, but he never answered.  I was too tired to take any risks by going along to him.  So we sat there.  I fancy I dozed once or twice.  When the dawn came I saw he was as dead as a doornail and all puffed up and purple.  My three eggs and the bones were lying in the middle of the canoe, and the keg of water and some coffee and biscuits wrapped in a Cape Argus by his feet, and a tin of methylated spirit underneath him.  There was no paddle, nor, in fact, anything except the spirit-tin that one could use as one, so I settled to drift until I was picked up.  I held an inquest on him, brought in a verdict against some snake, scorpion, or centipede unknown, and sent him overboard.

“After that I had a drink of water and a few biscuits, and took a look round.  I suppose a man low down as I was don’t see very far; leastways, Madagascar was clean out of sight, and any trace of land at all.  I saw a sail going south-westward—­looked like a schooner, but her hull never came up.  Presently the sun got high in the sky and began to beat down upon me.  Lord!  It pretty near made my brains boil.  I tried dipping my head in the sea, but after a while my eye fell on the Cape Argus, and I lay down flat in the canoe and spread this over me.  Wonderful things these newspapers!  I never read one through thoroughly before, but it’s odd what you get up to when you’re alone, as I was.  I suppose I read that blessed old Cape Argus twenty times.  The pitch in the canoe simply reeked with the heat and rose up into big blisters.

“I drifted ten days,” said the man with the scar.  “It’s a little thing in the telling, isn’t it?  Every day was like the last.  Except in the morning and the evening I never kept a look-out even—­the blaze was so infernal.  I didn’t see a sail after the first three days, and those I saw took no notice of me.  About the sixth night a ship went by scarcely half a mile away from me, with all its lights ablaze