CHAPTER XVII.
AND PYM?
"And Pym--poor Pym ?" I turned round quickly.
Hunt had spoken.

This strange person was standing motionless at a little distance, gazing fixedly at the horizon.
It was so unusual to hear Hunt's voice on board the schooner, that the men, whom the unaccustomed sound reached, drew near, moved by curiosity.

Did not his unexpected intervention point to--I had a presentiment that it did--some wonderful revelation?
A movement of West's hand sent the men forward, leaving only the mate, the boatswain, Martin Holt, the sailing-master, and Hardy, with the captain and myself in the vicinity of Hunt.

The captain approached and addressed him: "What did you say ?" "I said, 'And Pym--poor Pym.'" "Well, then, what do you mean by repeating the name of the man whose pernicious advice led my brother to the island on which the _Jane_ was lost, the greater part of her crew was massacred, and where we have not found even one left of those who were still here seven months ago ?" Hunt did not speak.
"Answer, I say--answer!" cried the captain.
Hunt hesitated, not because he did not know what to say, but from a certain difficulty in expressing his ideas.

The latter were quite clear, but his speech was confused, his words were unconnected.