I have
never found it in the books. In short, it is carelessness coupled
with laziness, or vice versa. I had used two of my illuminators.
Only one remained. An hour later, convinced of the movement aft of
men along the deck, I let go the third and last and with its
brightness sent them scurrying for'ard. Whether they were attacking
the poop tentatively to learn whether or not I had exhausted my
illuminators, or whether or not they were trying to rescue Ditman
Olansen, we shall never know. The point is: they did come aft; they
were compelled to retreat by my illuminator; and it was my last
illuminator. And yet I did not start in, there and then, to
manufacture fresh ones. This was carelessness. It was laziness.
And I hazarded our lives, perhaps, if you please, on a psychological
guess that I had convinced our mutineers that we had an inexhaustible
stock of illuminators in reserve.
The rest of Margaret's watch, which I shared with her, was
undisturbed. At four I insisted that she go below and turn in, but
she compromised by taking my own bed behind the skylight.
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