I saw a sail, and I struggled to remove my shirt, to wave it.
It was the Eidolon which finally drew alongside, lowered a boat, recovered me. Save for Ligeia, they had given up on me along with the other crewmen who had been washed overboard nearly two weeks ago, back in May. They had been forced considerably farther south since that time, and they had only changed course and come in this direction today because Ligeia had convinced Peters that the two of them must persuade Captain Guy to do so.
As I was taken aboard the boat I saw that the pieces of wreckage upon which I had floated bore the nameplate of a ship, covered until that moment by my body. I reached after, but it drifted away before I could make contact. I was able to read it, however. It said Discovery.
I was carried to my stateroom, where I was brought water, broth, bread and brandy. I had Peters find me clean garments in one of the sea chests and help me out of mine and into them. Captain Guy was present and insisted I get some sleep, and I told him I had been unconscious long enough, that I wanted to hear what had transpired during my absence. I also told him that I could not sleep until my thirst was slaked.
He sent for more water and broth.
Ligeia returned at about that time, also. She had been next door talking with Valdemar. She studied my eyes, checked various pulses and departed.
"What might that signify?" Captain Guy inquired.
"That I'm about to be brought some swamp-water with peculiar things floating in it," I answered.
A little later this prophecy on my part proved correct. As I sipped it, the captain nodded.
"I'm grateful you've sufficient wits about you to talk now rather than later," he said. "I've seen men pulled from the sea after only a day or two in much worse shape than you seem to be in."
"I guess I was lucky all the way around." I said, taking another sip. The stuff was actually beginning to taste good. Maybe my taste buds had been damaged.
"We are reduced to a crew of six men," he continued, "not counting Peters here, who is acting as First Mate. I have all the weapons, of course, and the men are afraid of Peters. But they have been more than a little unhappy over our run of bad luck since we left Spain."
"Can't say as I blame them," I said.
"During your absence," he went on, "a number of the rooms were burst open and inundated during one of the storms we encountered."
"I think I know what you're going to say," I told him.
He nodded.
"Monsieur Valdemar's coffin was washed out into the corridor and its lid torn open. The men know we have this strange dead man with us, and they think he's the Jonah."
It was my turn to nod.
"They'd have cast him overboard had not Peters intervened," the captain said. "So there is this matter between us."
"Will they calm down, d'you think?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"If nothing else happens," he said. "Unfortunately, it well may."
I sighed.
"Please explain."
"We are farther south now than even explorers' vessels have previously penetrated. These are unknown waters. God knows what we might encounter."
"And if it's bad, they'll mutiny?"
"There's a good chance of it," he said. "Your saber's beneath the bed. It was somewhat nicked. Peters put a new edge on it for you."
I nodded to the smaller man.
"Thanks, mate."
He winked at me, and his eye had all the seeming of a demon's that was dreaming.
"'Snuthin', mate."
"Well, I guess we just have to wait and see," I told the captain. "What is our heading now?"
"Due south," he replied.
"Why haven't we turned around and tried to get out of here?" I asked.
He chuckled.
"We're caught in a current," he said. "We can bear to the southwest or bear to the southeast, but that is about it. We're crippled, too, remember, in the sail we can lift. We've no choice at this time but to go south."
"I've a question then," I said. "Why isn't it colder? I caught sight of a few floes while I was being fetched aboard, but the air lacks the frigidity I associate with the notion of the polar climes. This seems almost like a mild winter back home."
"I can find no reference in any of my navigational volumes on this paradoxical warming effect," he replied. "If we make it through this I've a hunch we'll be the authorities on the matter."
"Tell 'im 'bout them black bears, cap'n," Peters remarked.
"Oh, yes," Captain Guy acknowledged. "Recently we've spotted a number of them—great black fellows with red eyes and teeth."
"Red teeth?"
"Aye, them, too. You ever hear of such a creature?"
"I have not," I replied. "Have we encountered any land masses hereabout?"
"A few islands," he said. "Nothing striking about them."
"Is that everything?" I inquired.
Peters and the captain glanced at each other, which meant, of course, that there was more. Captain Guy nodded.
"Seems as we're movin' faster and faster," Peters said then. "Pickin' up speed ever' day."
I had a sudden vision from my now faded dream-like excursion aboard the Discovery.
"Meaning that the current is moving faster, and faster," I stated.
"Exactly," the captain acknowledged. "Which means we must seriously consider a theory propounded by a Colonel Symmes of Ohio, to the effect that the Earth is hollow, and that the currents of the seas pour through a vortex at the South Pole to emerge from an opening at the North Pole, thence to recirculate... ."
And my vision continued. Round and round like a colossal drain from which the plug had been pulled... . Was this in some fashion premonitory of our present plight as well as indicative of whatever it revealed on its own.
I raised my hands, massaged my eyeballs with their heels.
"I seem to recall reading a magazine piece on this notion, some time ago," I told him. "By a fellow named Reynolds, I believe."
"Yes," Captain Guy said. "I saw it, too. While the welfare of this vessel and that of everyone aboard her is my responsibility, Mr. Ellison has requested that I discuss matters of great moment with you. In other words, sir, what is your opinion as to the best course of action we should take?"
"Lord!" I said. "It's a guessing game!"
"Then give me your guess," he insisted.
"Very well," I replied. "Whether the Earth be truly hollow or whether something else be the cause of our precipitate rush, I believe we're likely to go smash when we get there. So I feel we should start veering off immediately, as a delaying action." I groped in the pocket of the trousers I had discarded, found a Spanish coin, tossed it. "Heads," I announced. "Let's go east."
Captain Guy smiled bleakly.
"As good a way to choose as any, I suppose," he acknowledged. "Very well—"
There came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping on the distant wall. It resembled the effect I often produced when attempting mesmerism. Ligeia was on her feet immediately.
"Excuse me," she said, and she was gone out the door.
"What might that be about?" the captain asked.
I glanced at Peters, who nodded.
"I take it you know all about Monsieur Valdemar now?" I said.
"Concerning his extra-normal abilities? Yes. Ligeia explained the situation to me, once the—cat was out of the bag, so to speak."
His face suddenly brightened. He half-rose from his chair.
"Of course!" he said, and I nodded.
Moments later, Ligeia returned.
"Bear full to the southwest at six bells tomorrow morn," she stated.
"Certainly," the captain said.
"Indeed," I noted.
They gave me another brandy, and then I went to sleep.
We continued to see a good deal of ice on our new course, but the weather had grown even more clement. I did catch sight of one of the great black bears but even more interesting—the following day—was a glimpse of a canoe filled with black-skinned, ebony-toothed folk. We shot past them, however.
And another day came and went.
Then Ligeia emerged from Valdemar's cabin, catching me on the companionway as I was returning to my stateroom from a stroll about the deck.