I accidentally heard two or three of the crew conversing about my sickness one day, and, to my great consternation, they came to the conclusion that I was rapidly sinking, and they would soon be rid of my company.
"Yaw," muttered in thick guttural tones a thick-headed Dutchman, who had manifested towards me particular dislike, "in one or TWO days more, at farthest, we shall help to carry him ashore in a wooden box." And a pleasant smile for a moment lighted up his ugly features.
"You lie, you heartless vagabond!" I exclaimed, giving a loose to my indignation; "you won't get rid of me so easily as you think.

I will live and laugh at you yet, were it only to disappoint your expectations." Nevertheless, the opinion which my unsympathizing shipmates thus volunteered came over me like an electric shock.

It sounded in my ears like a sentence of death.

I crawled along the lower deck into the forecastle, and from the bottom of my chest took a small looking-glass which I had not used for weeks.

I saw the reflection of my features, and started back aghast.