For myself I hold his name in highest gratitude and reverence, for he crowned his good treatment of me by one most kindly and thoughtful act at the supremest moment of his life.
I was soaked in other men's blood from head to foot, and looked and felt like a man in a slaughterhouse.

I was drawing into a corner, as decently as I could, the mangled remnants of a man who had died as they laid him down.
I straightened my stiff back for a second and stood with my hands on my hips, and at that moment Captain Duchatel came running down the stairway, with a face like stone and a pistol in his hand.
He glanced at me.

I saluted.

He knew me through my stains.
"Sauvez-vous, mon brave! C'est fini!" he said quietly through his teeth.
A great thing to do!--a most gracious and noble thing! In his own final extremity to think of another's life as not rightly forfeit to necessity or country.
I understood in a flash, and sped up the decks--with not one second to spare.

The upper deck was a shambles.