29 July. – Another tragedy. Second mate disappeared. Thorough search, but found no one. We are now without second mate, and crew in a panic.
30 July. – Last night. We are near England. Weather is fine. Slept soundly;[92] awaked by mate. He said that both man of watch and steersman were missing. Only myself and mate and two hands sailors left.
1 August. – Two days of fog. Mate now demoralized.
2 August, midnight. – Could see nothing in fog. Rushed on deck. No sign of man on watch. One more gone.[93] Lord, help us! Only God can guide us in the fog, which moves with us.
3 August. – I did not find the man at the wheel. After a few seconds he rushed up on deck in his flannels.[94] He looked haggard. He came close to me and whispered hoarsely, with his mouth to my ear, “It is here; I know it now. On the watch last night I saw It, like a man, tall and thin, and ghastly pale. I crept behind It, and gave It my knife;[95] but the knife went through It, empty as the air.” And as he spoke he took his knife and drove it savagely into space. Then he went on, “But It is here, and I’ll find It. It is perhaps in one of those boxes. I’ll open them and see.” He is mad, stark, raving mad. He can’t hurt those big boxes: they are marked as “clay”. So here I stay, and write these notes. I can only trust in God and wait till the fog clears.
The mate ran up on the deck. “Save me! Save me!” he cried, and then looked round. His horror turned to despair, and in a steady voice he said, “Come with me too, captain, before it is too late. He is there. I know the secret now. The sea will save me from Him!” Before I could say a word, or move forward to seize him, he sprang on the bulwark and deliberately threw himself into the sea. I suppose I know the secret too, now. It was this madman who had killed the men one by one,[96] and now he has followed them himself. God help me! When I get to port! Will that ever be?
4 August. – Still fog, which the sunrise cannot pierce. I know there is sunrise because I am a sailor. I dared not leave the helm; so here all night I stayed, and in the dimness of the night I saw It – Him! God forgive me, but the mate was right to jump overboard. It was better to die like a man; to die like a sailor in blue water. But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship. But I shall baffle this fiend or monster, for I shall tie my hands to the wheel, and along with them I shall tie that which He – It! – dare not touch: the cross; and then, I shall save my soul, and my honour as a captain. I am growing weaker, and the night is coming on. If He can look me in the face again, I may not have time to act…