And now the last scene of all came very quickly.
Ulysses was wont to say that of all the things he had witnessed in his life this was the saddest and most terrible.
A sudden crackle of thunder pealed over the sky. A fantastic network of lightning played round the ship like lace.
A dark cloud formed itself directly over the boat, not two mast’s lengths above, and all the waves below became like ink in the shadow. For a time it hung there motionless, and then suddenly a mighty wind swooped down on them like a hawk drops out of the sky. The mast snapped like a pipe-stem and crashed upon the deck, braining the helmsman in its fall. A smooth green wave, just slightly bubbling with froth on the crest, but like a hill of oil, rose and swept over the ship.
Ulysses clung to a stanchion with all his mighty strength, and was just able to battle against the flood. When it passed over him he saw that every man of the crew was in the water. For a few moments they floated round him with sad cries of farewell, and then one by one they were swept into the Ultimate.
The timbers of the ship broke away and she fell to pieces. With a loud cry to Athene, Ulysses launched himself on the waves clinging to a great log which had formed part of the keel. A swift current urged him along far away from the scene of the wreck.
The purpose of the god was accomplished, and the waves fell, and the moonlight shone out clear and still once more.
On all the waste of waters no sail, no cape nor headland broke the silver monotone.
Loneliness descended upon the hero like a cloak; an utter abandonment such as he had never known before in life.
The water began to grow very cold.