"It was horrid, indeed," responded Robert. "But you will soon recover; the trouble was more in your mind than in your body. I doubt not you are feeling as father says he felt when going first into a dissecting room--he fainted outright; and he said that this is no uncommon thing with beginners, but they soon become used to it."
"I am willing enough to go through the whole vessel," said Harold, "but not into that cabin, for a while at least."
"Poor creatures!" sighed Robert, "they appear to have been passengers; and unless the cabin filled soon with water, they must have had a lingering death."
"Don't speak of it," Harold pleaded. "The bare thought makes me shudder. And then to think of their being devoured by such slimy things as eels and catfish, and of being pinched to pieces by crabs, as these bodies were--it is sickening!"
Robert perceived that these reflections were exceedingly painful to his cousin, and had been in fact the cause of his sickness; he therefore managed adroitly to shift the conversation from point to point, until it gradually assumed a cheerful character. Pleasant thoughts were the medicine Harold needed, and in the course of a few minutes he himself proposed to renew the search.
Descending between decks, they found in the side of the vessel, contrary to custom, the cook's room. It contained a stove, with all its appurtenances complete. This was a real treasure; they rejoiced to think how much labour and trouble would be saved to Mary, whose patience and ingenuity were often put to the test for the want of suitable utensils.
The steward's room adjoined; and here they found crockery of all sorts, though most of it was in fragments; knives, forks, spoons, and candlesticks, none of which they valued, having plenty of their own; two bottles of olives, and a case of anchovies, sound and good, and a fine set of castors, partly broken, containing mustard, pepper, catsup and vinegar. Upon the topmost shelf (or under what had been the lowest) were two large lockers, which they opened with difficulty, the door being fast glued with paste, and out of which poured a deluge of musty flour from an upturned barrel. There were also different kinds of hard biscuit and ship bread, but they were all spoiled.
From these two rooms they passed with great difficulty to the forecastle, having to cut their way through a thick partition. Here the sight was more appalling than that which they had witnessed in the cabin. Lying on the floor, partly immersed in a muddy pool, were the skeletons of eight men and two boys; and in the midst of them they heard such a splashing of the water that their blood ran cold, and their hair stood on end. They started back in terror, thinking at first that the dead had waked from sleep, and were moving before their eyes; in doing so, Robert, who carried the candle, jostled roughly against Harold, and instantly they were in darkness.
"O mercy! mercy!" Robert ejaculated, in an agony of alarm, and falling upon his knees clasped his hands together, expecting every moment to be his last. Harold, however, with that presence of mind which is the mark of true courage, and is the best preservative in time of danger, threw his arms around him, to prevent him from escaping, and fortunately recovered the candle, which had dropped in the edge of the wet slime upon the floor.
"Nothing but fishes!" said he, divining the state of Robert's mind from what he knew of his own. "Nothing but fishes! I saw one leap from the water. Softly, Robert, let us light the candle."