But for the time being I
was disappointed in this. Almost immediately Mr. Falk summoned all hands
aft.
"Men," he said, putting on a grave face that seemed to me assumed for the
occasion, "men, we've come through a dangerous time, and we are lucky to
have come alive out of the bad scrape that we were in. Some of us haven't
come through so well. It's a sad thing for a ship to lose an officer, and
it is twice as sad to lose two fine officers like Captain Whidden and Mr.
Thomas. I'll now read the service for the burial of the dead, and after
that I'll have something more to say to you."
One of the men spoke in an undertone, and Mr. Falk cried, "What's that?"
"If you please, sir," the man said, fidgeting nervously, "couldn't we go
ashore and bury them decently?"
Others had thought of the same thing, and they showed it by their faces;
but Mr. Falk scowled and replied, "Nonsense! We'd be murdered in cold
blood."
So we stood there, bareheaded, silent, sad at heart, and heard the droning
voice of the second mate,--even then he could not hide his unrighteous
satisfaction,--who read from a worn prayer-book, that had belonged to
Captain Whidden himself, the words committing the bodies of three men to
the deep, their souls to God.
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