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Chips wanted to go along to see if anything could be done to help stop the leak in case Captain Sackett still insisted staying aboard. Johnson, the little sailor with the thin legs set wide apart, showing daylight between clear to his waist, Hans, the heavy-shouldered Swede, and Phillippi, a squat Dago, made up the rest of the boat's crew.
I was for going ahead the day we missed you, but that big-headed little rascal insisted on hunting for you after seeing you leave the wreck. Where's Jim and Phillippi, and the rest?" The sincerity of his welcome had taken me off my guard, and I found myself standing there shaking his hand. Then I recovered myself. "It's a pity Captain Thompson missed this ship the day she sailed," I said quietly.
Phillippi lay with his eyes staring up at the sky. His knife was still clutched in his dark hand, and his teeth shone white beneath his black mustache. The other sailor was dead, and while we looked for some sign of life, I heard a smothered sob come from aft. We turned and saw a slender white form bending over the body of Captain Sackett.
A typical fighter, when he lost battle after battle and was pursued from plain to hill and from bush to cavern, found himself hungry and alone in the dark hollow of a tree, his sword blunt with use, his bow broken and arrows exhausted did not the noblest of the Romans fall upon his own sword in Phillippi under like circumstances? deemed it cowardly to die, but with a fortitude approaching a Christian martyr's, cheered himself with an impromptu verse: "Come! evermore come, Ye dread sorrows and pains!
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