“Adler—­here; Blair—­here; Dahl—­here; Fishbaugh—­here; Hawes—­here; McPherson—­here; Muck Tu—­here; Woodward—­here; Captain Ward Bennett—­here; Dr. Sheridan Dennison—­here; Chief Engineer Richard Ferriss—­” no answer.  Bennett waited for a moment, then repeated the name, “Chief Engineer Richard Ferriss—­” Again he was silent; but after a few seconds he called aloud in agony of anxiety, “Chief Engineer Richard Ferriss, answer to the roll-call!”

Then once more he began; his disordered wits calling to mind a different order of things: 

“Adler—­here; Blair—­died from exhaustion at Point Kane; Dahl—­here; Fishbaugh—­starved to death on the march to Kolyuchin Bay; Hawes—­died of arctic fever at Cape Kammeni; McPherson—­unable to keep up, and abandoned at ninth camp; Muck Tu—­here; Woodward—­died from starvation at twelfth camp; Dr. Sheridan Dennison—­frozen to death at Kolyuchin Bay; Chief Engineer Richard Ferriss—­died by the act of his best friend, Captain Ward Bennett!” Again and again Bennett repeated this phrase, calling:  “Richard Ferriss!  Richard Ferriss!” and immediately adding in a broken voice:  “Died by the act of his best friend, Captain Ward Bennett.”  Or at times it was only the absence of Ferriss that seemed to torture him.  He would call the roll, answering “here” to each name until he reached Ferriss; then he would not respond, but instead would cry aloud over and over again, in accents of the bitterest grief, “Richard Ferriss, answer to the roll-call; Richard Ferriss, answer to the roll-call—­” Then suddenly, with a feeble, quavering cry, “For God’s sake, Dick, answer to the roll-call!”

The hours passed.  Ten o’clock struck, then eleven.  At midnight Lloyd took the temperature (which had decreased considerably) and the pulse, and refilled the ice-pack about the head.  Bennett was still muttering in the throes of delirium, still calling for Ferriss, imploring him to answer to the roll-call; or repeating the words:  “Dick Ferriss, chief engineer—­died at the hands of his best friend, Ward Bennett,” in tones so pitiful, so heart-broken that more than once Lloyd felt the tears running down her cheeks.

“Richard Ferriss, Richard Ferriss, answer to the roll-call; Dick, old man, won’t you answer, won’t you answer, old chap, when I call you?  Won’t you come back and say ‘It’s all right?’ Ferriss, Ferriss, answer to my roll-call. ...  Died at the hands of his best friend. ...  At Kolyuchin Bay. ...  Killed, and I did it. ...  Forward, men; you’ve got to do it; snowing to-day and all the ice in motion. ...  H’up y’r other sledge.  Come on with y’r number four; more pressure-ridges, I’ll break you yet!  Come on with y’r number four! ...  Lloyd Searight, what are you doing in this room?”

On the instant the voice had changed from confused mutterings to distinct, clear-cut words.  The transition was so sudden that Lloyd, at the moment busy at her nurse’s bag, her back to the bed, wheeled sharply about to find Bennett sitting bolt upright, looking straight at her with intelligent, wide-open eyes.  Lloyd’s heart for an instant stood still, almost in terror.  This sudden leap back from the darkness of delirium into the daylight of consciousness was almost like a rising from the dead, ghost-like, appalling.  She caught her breath, trembling in spite of her best efforts, and for an instant leaned a hand upon the table behind her.