That's how he died. You can call it murder. Anyhow, I'd as
soon die with a rope round my neck as with Black Peter's knife
in my heart."
"How came you there?" asked Holmes.
"I'll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little, so
as I can speak easy. It was in '83 that it happened -- August of
that year. Peter Carey was master of the Sea Unicorn, and I was
spare harpooner. We were coming out of the ice-pack on our
way home, with head winds and a week's southerly gale, when
we picked up a little craft that had been blown north. There was
one man on her -- a landsman. The crew had thought she would
founder and had made for the Norwegian coast in the dinghy. I
guess they were all drowned. Well, we took him on board, this
man, and he and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin.
All the baggage we took off with him was one tin box. So far as
I know, the man's name was never mentioned, and on the
second night he disappeared as if he had never been. It was
given out that he had either thrown himself overboard or fallen
overboard in the heavy weather that we were having.
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