His eyes peered around, wide-open, lusterless.

The pounding of the seas, the grating of iron on rock, left him unmoved.
"Wy don't you jine in the chorus, you swabs ?" he cried, and forthwith plunged into the second stanza.
"The _Alice_ brig sailed out of the Pool For the other side of the world, O, An' our ole man brought 'is gal from school, With 'er 'air so brown an' curled, O.
Sing hum---- Sing hum---- Of death no man's a dodger, An' we squared our rig for a yardarm jig When we sighted the Jolly Roger." He grew quite uproarious because the lilting tune evoked neither applause nor vocal efforts from the others.
"Lord luv' a duck!" he shouted.

"Can't any of ye lend a hand?
Cheer O, maties--'ere's a bit more---- The brig was becalmed in a sea like glass, An' it gev' us all the creeps, O, Wen the sun went down like a ball o' brass, An' the pirate rigged 'is sweeps----" "There she goes!" yelled the sailor in charge of the line; he began to haul in the slack like a madman; Coke's fist fell heavily on the singer's right ear.
"Wen your turn comes, I'll tie the rope round your bloomin' neck!" he growled vindictively, though his eyes continued to search the dark shroud overhead that inclosed them as in a tomb.

A dark form loomed downward through the mist.

It was Hozier, alone, coming back to them.
A frenzied cheer broke from the lips of those overwrought men.