The frightful repast followed--immediately--and words are not sufficient to convey to the mind the horror of the reality.
Yes! I knew that hideous story, not a fable, as I had long believed.
This was what had happened on board the _Grampus_, on the 16th of July, 1827, and vainly did I try to understand Dirk Peters' reason for recalling it to my recollection.
"Well, Dirk Peters," I said, "I will ask you, since you were anxious to hide your name, what it was that induced you to reveal it, when the _Halbrane_ was moored off Tsalal Island; why you did not keep to the name of Hunt ?" "Sir--understand me--there was hesitation about going farther--they wanted to turn back.

This was decided, and then I thought that by telling who I was--Dirk Peters--of the _Grampus_--poor Pym's companion--I should be heard; they would belieye with me that he was still living, they would go in search of him! And yet, it was a serious thing to do--to acknowledge that I was Dirk Peters, he who had killed Parker! But hunger, devouring hunger!" "Come, come, Dirk Peters," said I, "you exaggerate! If the lot had fallen to you, you would have incurred the fate of Parker.

You cannot be charged with a crime." "Sir, would Parker's family speak of it as you do ?" "His family! Had he then relations ?" "Yes--and that is why Pym changed his name in the narrative.
Parker's name was not Parker--it was--" "Arthur Pym was right," I said, interrupting him quickly, "and as for me, I do not wish to know Parker's real name.

Keep this secret." "No, I will tell it to you.

It weighs too heavily on me, and I shall be relieved, perhaps, when I have told you, Mr.Jeorling." "No, Dirk Peters, no!" "His name was Holt--Ned Holt." "Holt!" I exclaimed, "the same name as our sailing-master's." "Who is his own brother, sir." "Martin Holt ?" "Yes--understand me--his brother." "But he believes that Ned Holt perished in the wreck of the _Grampus_ with the rest." "It was not so, and if he learned that I--" Just at that instant a violent shock flung me out of my bunk.
The schooner had made such a lurch to the port side that she was near foundering.
I heard an angry voice cry out: "What dog is that at the helm ?" It was the voice of West, and the person he was Hearne.
I rushed out of my cabin.
"Have you let the wheel go ?" repeated West, who had seized Hearne by the collar of his jersey.
"Lieutenant--I don't know--" "Yes, I tell you, you have let it go.