“Quickly
man,” The Captain shouts at Albert, “Hold him down!”
They
both grab one of the second mate's arms, but he struggles violently
against them.
“Let
me go,” he wails, “She's calling for me, I have to be with her.”
“She's
calling for you to swim to your grave,” Briggs wheezes as he and
the mate struggle to restrain Gilling. They force him back, into his
chair, each restraining an arm. It's a struggle, but they keep him
there, all the while he's raving and screaming about “being chosen
by HER.”
They
keep at it, holding him steady, as the ethereal melancholy wafts
closer, getting louder in the night air. Without warning his body
goes limp, and they both relax and regain their composure.
It's
a short lived peace, however, as they are soon alerted to a commotion
on the deck.
