He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; it permeated everything, taste and smell.
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