"I never done it!" he broke out. "Take them away! I never done it!
Oh, my God! never--never--never!"
With that he ran off into a string of prayers and cursings, all mixed
up together, the fever shaking him like a sail caught head-to-wind,
and at every shake he screeched louder.
"I won't, I won't!" he kept saying. "Hayling, take that devil off
and cover them up. The boat, Hayling! Fetch the boat and cover them
up!" Then, a little after: "Who says the anchor's fouled? How can I
tell for the noise? Tell them, less noise below. I never done it,
tell them! And take his grinning face out of the way, or you'll
never get it clear! 'Tisn't Christian burial--look at their fins!
D--n them, Hayling, look at their fins! Three feet of sand, or
they'll never stay covered. Who says as I poisoned them?
Hayling knows. Where is Hayling?"
I am writing down all I can remember; but there was more--a heap of
it--that I did not catch, being kept busy holding him down till the
strength went out of him and he lay quiet; which he did in time, the
shivers running down through him between my hands, and his voice
muttering on without a stop.
For an hour I sat, hoping he would fall asleep; for his voice
weakened little by little, and by-and-by he just lay and stared up at
the roof, with only his lips moving.
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