Chapter XVIII. A Revelation

           Thefollowingday,the29thofDecember,atsixinthemorning,theschoonersetsailwithanorth-eastwind,andthistimehercoursewasduesouth.Thetwosucceedingdayspassedwhollywithoutincident;neitherlandnoranysignoflandwasobserved.ThemenontheHalbranetookgreathaulsoffish,totheirownsatisfactionandours.ItwasNewYear’sDay,1840,fourmonthsandseventeendayssinceIhadlefttheKerguelensandtwomonthsandfivedayssincetheHalbranehadsailedfromtheFalklands.Thehalf-breed,betweenwhomandmyselfanoddkindoftacitunderstandingsubsisted,approachedthebenchonwhichIwassitting—thecaptainwasinhiscabin,andWestwasnotinsight—withaplainintentionofconversingwithme.Thesubjectmayeasilybeguessed.

           “DirkPeters,”saidI,takingupthesubjectatonce,“doyouwishthatweshouldtalkofhim?”

           “Him!”hemurmured.

           “Youhaveremainedfaithfultohismemory,DirkPeters.”

           “Forgethim,sir!Never!”

           “Heisalwaysthere—beforeyou?”

           “Always!Somanydangersshared!Thatmakesbrothers!No,itmakesafatherandhisson!Yes!AndIhaveseenAmericaagain,butPym—poorPym—heisstillbeyondthere!”

           “DirkPeters,”Iasked,“haveyouanyideaoftheroutewhichyouandArthurPymfollowedintheboatafteryourdeparturefromTsalalIsland?”

           “None,sir!PoorPymhadnolongeranyinstrument—youknow—seamachines—forlookingatthesun.