"I began to fear, from his having quitted the old place, that some misfortune must have befallen him. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. " ***** "To me, you dirty blackguard!" cried Spurlock, flinging aside his helmet. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily.
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