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It was some time before either I or the captain seemed to gather
our senses, but at length, and about at the same moment, I
released his wrist, which I was still holding, and he drew in his
hand and looked sharply into the palm.
“Ten o’clock!” he cried. “Six hours. We’ll do them yet,” and he
sprang to his feet.
Even as he did so, he reeled, put his hand to his throat, stood
swaying for a moment, and then, with a peculiar sound, fell from
his whole height face foremost to the floor.
I ran to him at once, calling to my mother. But haste was all in
vain. The captain had been struck dead by thundering apoplexy. It
is a curious thing to understand, for I had certainly never liked the
man, though of late I had begun to pity him, but as soon as I saw
that he was dead, I burst into a flood of tears. It was the second
death I had known, and the sorrow of the first was still fresh in my