I DECIDE TO COMMIT SUICIDE
JANUARY 25.--Last night was very misty, and for some unaccountable
reason, one of the hottest that can be imagined. The atmosphere was
really so stifling, that it seemed as if it only required a spark to
set it alight. The raft was not only quite stationary, but did not even
rise and fall with any motion of the waves.
During the night I tried to count how many there were now on board, but
I was utterly unable to collect my ideas sufficiently to make the
enumeration. Sometimes I counted ten, sometimes twelve, and although I
knew that eleven, since Jynxstrop was dead, was the correct number, I
could never bring my reckoning right. Of one thing I felt quite sure,
and that was that the number would very soon be ten. I was convinced
that I could myself last but very little longer. All the events and
associations of my life passed rapidly through my brain. My country, my
friends, and my family all appeared as it were in a vision, and seemed
as though they had come to bid me a last farewell.
Toward morning I woke from my sleep, if the languid stupor into which I
had fallen was worthy of that name. One fixed idea had taken possession
of my brain--I would put an end to myself; and I felt a sort of
pleasure as I gloated over the power that I had to terminate my
sufferings. I told Curtis, with the utmost composure, of my intention,
and he received the intelligence as calmly as it was delivered.
"Of course you will do as you please," he said; "for my own part, I
shall not abandon my post. It is my duty to remain here; and unless
death comes to carry me away, I shall stay where I am to the very last."
The dull gray fog still hung heavily over the ocean, but the sun was
evidently shining above the mist, and would, in course of time, dispel
the vapor. Toward seven o'clock I fancied I heard the cries of birds
above my head. The sound was repeated three times, and as I went up to
the captain to ask him about it, I heard him mutter to himself:
"Birds! Why, that looks as if land were not far off."
But although Curtis might still cling to the hope of reaching land, I
knew not what it was to have one sanguine thought. For me there was
neither continent nor island; the world was one fluid sphere, uniform,
monotonous, as in the most primitive period of its formation.
Nevertheless it must be owned that it was with a certain amount of
impatience that I awaited the rising of the mist, for I was anxious to
shake off the phantom fallacies that Curtis's words had suggested to my
mind.
Not till eleven o'clock did the fog begin to break, and as it rolled in
heavy folds along the surface of the water, I could every now and then
catch glimpses of a clear blue sky beyond. Fierce sunbeams pierced the
cloud-rifts, scorching and burning our bodies like red-hot iron; but it
was only above our heads that there was any sunlight to condense the
vapor; the horizon was still quite invisible. There was no wind, and
for half an hour longer the fog hung heavily round the raft, while
Curtis, leaning against the side, strove to penetrate the obscurity. At
length the sun burst forth in full power, and, sweeping the surface of
the ocean, dispelled the fog and left the horizon open to our eyes.
There, exactly as we had seen it for the last six weeks, was the circle
that bounded sea and sky--unbroken, definite, distinct as ever! Curtis
gazed with intensest scrutiny, but did not speak a word. I pitied him
sincerely, for he alone of us all felt that he had not the right to put
an end to his misery. For myself, I had fully determined that if I
lived till the following day, I would die by my own hand. Whether my
companions were still alive, I hardly cared to know; it seemed as
though days had passed since I had seen them.
Night drew on, but I could not sleep for a moment. Toward two o'clock
in the morning my thirst was so intense that I was unable to suppress
loud cries of agony. Was there nothing that would serve to quench the
fire that was burning within me? What if, instead of drinking the blood
of others, I were to drink my own? It would be all unavailing, I was
well aware; but scarcely had the thought crossed my mind, than I
proceeded to put it into execution. I unclasped my knife, and,
stripping my arm, with a steady thrust I opened a small vein. The blood
oozed out slowly, drop by drop, and as I eagerly swallowed the source
of my very life, I felt that for a moment my torments were relieved.
But only for a moment; all energy had failed my pulses, and almost
immediately the blood had ceased to flow.
How long it seemed before the morning dawned! and when that morning
came it brought another fog, heavy as before, that again shut out the
horizon. The fog was hot as the burning steam that issues from a
boiler. It was to be my last day upon earth, and I felt that I should
like to press the hand of a friend before I died. Curtis was standing
near, and crawling up to him, I took his hand in my own. He seemed to
know that I was taking my farewell, and with one last lingering hope he
endeavored to restrain me. But all in vain; my mind was finally made up.
I should have liked to speak once again to M. Letourneur, Andre, and
Miss Herbey, but my courage failed me. I knew that the young girl would
read my resolution in my eyes, and that she would speak to me of duty,
and of God, and of eternity, and I dared not meet her gaze; and I would
not run the risk of being persuaded to wait until a lingering death
should overtake me. I returned to the back of the raft, and after
making several efforts, I managed to get on to my feet. I cast one long
look at the pitiless ocean and the unbroken horizon; if a sail or the
outline of a coast had broken on my view, I believe that I should only
have deemed myself the victim of an illusion; but nothing of the kind
appeared, and the sea was dreary as a desert.
It was ten o'clock in the morning. The pangs of hunger and the torments
of thirst were racking me with redoubled vigor. All instinct of
self-preservation had left me, and I felt that the hour had come when I
must cease to suffer. Just as I was on the point of casting myself
headlong into the sea, a voice, which I recognized as Dowlas's, broke
upon my ear.
"Captain," he said, "we are going to draw lots."
Involuntarily I paused; I did not take my plunge, but returned to my
place upon the raft.