Chapter 53

CHAPTER LIII.

JANUARY 26th.--All heard and understood the proposition; in fact,
it had been in contemplation for several days, but no one had
ventured to put the idea into words.  However, it was done now;
lots were to be drawn, and to each would be assigned his share of
the body of the one ordained by fate to be the victim.  For my
own part, I profess that I was quite resigned for the lot to fall
upon myself.  I thought I heard Andre Letourneur beg for an
exception to be made in favour of Miss Herbey, but the sailors
raised a murmur of dissent.  As there were eleven of us on board,
there were ten chances to one in each one's favour, a proportion
which would be diminished if Miss Herbey were excluded, so that
the young lady was forced to take her chance among the rest.

It was then half-past ten, and the boatswain, who had been roused
from his lethargy by what the carpenter had said, insisted that
the drawing should take place immediately.  There was no reason
for postponing the fatal lottery.  There was not one of us that
clung in the least to life, and we knew that at the worst,
whoever should be doomed to die, would only precede the rest by a
few days, or even hours.  All that we desired was just once to
slake our raging thirst and moderate our gnawing hunger.

How all the names found their way to the bottom of a hat I cannot
tell.  Very likely Falsten wrote them upon a leaf torn from his
memorandum-book.  But be that as it may, the eleven names were
there, and it was unanimously agreed that the last name drawn
should be the victim.

But who would draw the names?  There was hesitation for a moment;
then, "I will," said a voice behind me.  Turning round, I beheld
M. Letourneur standing with outstretched hand, and with his long
white hair falling over his thin livid face that was almost
sublime in its calmness.  I divined at once the reason of this
voluntary offer; I knew that it was the father's devotion in
self-sacrifice that led him to undertake the office.

"As soon as you please," said the boatswain, and handed him the
hat.

M. Letourneur proceeded to draw out the folded strips of paper
one by one, and after reading out aloud the name upon it, handed
it to its owner.

The first name called was that of Burke, who uttered a cry of
delight; then followed Flaypole and the boatswain.  What his name
really was I never could exactly learn.  Then came Falsten,
Curtis, Sandon.  More than half had now been called, and my name
had not yet been drawn.  I calculated my remaining chance; it was
still four to one in my favour.

M. Letourneur continued his painful task.  Since Burke's first
exclamation of joy not a sound had escaped our lips, but all were
listening in breathless silence.  The seventh name was Miss
Herbey's, but the young girl heard it without a start.  Then came
mine, yes, mine!  and the ninth was that of Letourneur.

"Which one?"  asked the boatswain.

"Andre," said M. Letourneur.

With one cry Andre fell back senseless.  Only two names now
remained in the hat; those of Dowlas and of M. Letourneur
himself.

"Go on," almost roared the carpenter, surveying his partner in
peril as though he could devour him.  M. Letourneur almost had a
smile upon his lips, as he drew forth the last paper but one, and
with a firm, unfaltering voice, marvellous for his age, unfolded
it slowly, and read the name of Dowlas.  The carpenter gave a
yell of relief as he heard the word.

M. Letourneur took the last bit of paper from the hat, and
without looking at it, tore it to pieces.  But, unperceived by
all but myself, one little fragment flew into a corner of the
raft.  I crawled towards it and picked it up.  On one side of it
was written Andr--; the rest of the word was torn away.  M.
Letourneur saw what I had done, and rushing towards me, snatched
the paper from my hands, and flung it into the sea.