A slight crack or two of wood were heard, and the overpowering stillness of the room resumed its sway.
Byrne stood up, gasped for breath, and let out a cry of rage and dismay, the first sound which he is perfectly certain did make its way past his lips on this night of terrors.

This then was the death he had escaped! This was the devilish artifice of murder poor Tom's soul had perhaps tried from beyond the border to warn him of.

For this was how he had died.

Byrne was certain he had heard the voice of the seaman, faintly distinct in his familiar phrase, "Mr.Byrne! Look out, sir!" and again uttering words he could not make out.

But then the distance separating the living from the dead is so great! Poor Tom had tried.