H. B. Marriott Watson,
Hurricane Island
“ I stepped out upon the deck. The sky was as grey as the sea, and the silhouette of the spars and funnel was ghost-like. The Sea Queen thundered on her course, heeling to the broad wash of the water. As I stood watching, my ears alert for any sound that would give me information, I saw a figure detach itself from the bulwarks and move uncertainly about, and as it drew near I discovered it was Pye's. His face was of a colour with the gray steel of his revolver, which he held loosely, as if he was not aware he held it. ”
