 world which to him had been a riot of
action. No more would he conjugate the verb to do in every mood and tense. To be
was all that remained to him - to be, as he had defined death, without movement;
to will, but not to execute; to think and reason and in the spirit of him to be
as alive as ever, but in the flesh to be dead, quite dead.
    And yet, though I even removed the handcuffs, we could not adjust ourselves
to his condition. Our minds revolted. To us he was full of potentiality. We knew
not what to expect of him next, what fearful thing, rising above the flesh, he
might break out and do. Our experience warranted this state of mind, and we went
about our work with anxiety always upon us.
    I had solved the problem which had arisen through the shortness of the
shears. By means of the watch-tackle, (I had made a new one), I heaved the butt
of the foremast across the rail and then lowered it to the deck. Next, by means
of the shears, I hoisted the main boom on board. Its forty feet of length would
supply the height necessary properly to swing the mast. By means of a secondary
tackle I had attached to the shears, I swung the boom to a nearly perpendicular
position, then lowered the butt to the deck, where, to prevent slipping, I
spiked great cleats around it. The single block of my original shears-tackle I
had attached to the end of the boom. Thus, by carrying this tackle to the
windlass, I could raise and lower the end of the boom at will, the butt always
remaining stationary, and, by means of guys, I could swing the boom from side to
side. To the end of the boom I had likewise rigged a hoisting tackle; and when
the whole arrangement was completed I could not but be startled by the power and
latitude it gave me.
    Of course, two days' work was required for the accomplishment of this part
of my task, and it was not till the morning of the third day that I swung the
foremast from the deck and proceeded to square its butt to fit the step. Here I
was especially awkward. I sawed and chopped and chiselled the weathered wood
till it had the appearance of having been gnawed by some gigantic mouse. But it
fitted.
    »It will work, I know it will work,« I cried.
    »Do you know Dr. Jordan's final test of truth?« Maud
