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It
was
the
voice
I
had
heard
in
my
dream
.
“
And
Pym
—
poor
Pym
?
”
I
turned
round
quickly
.
Hunt
had
spoken
.
This
strange
person
was
standing
motionless
at
a
little
distance
,
gazing
fixedly
at
the
horizon
.
It
was
so
unusual
to
hear
Hunt
’
s
voice
on
board
the
schooner
,
that
the
men
,
whom
the
unaccustomed
sound
reached
,
drew
near
,
moved
by
curiosity
.
Did
not
his
unexpected
intervention
point
to
—
I
had
a
presentiment
that
it
did
—
some
wonderful
revelation
?
A
movement
of
West
’
s
hand
sent
the
men
forward
,
leaving
only
the
mate
,
the
boatswain
,
Martin
Holt
,
the
sailing
-
master
,
and
Hardy
,
with
the
captain
and
myself
in
the
vicinity
of
Hunt
.
The
captain
approached
and
addressed
him
:
“
What
did
you
say
?
”
“
I
said
,
‘
And
Pym
—
poor
Pym
.
’
“
“
Well
,
then
,
what
do
you
mean
by
repeating
the
name
of
the
man
whose
pernicious
advice
led
my
brother
to
the
island
on
which
the
Jane
was
lost
,
the
greater
part
of
her
crew
was
massacred
,
and
where
we
have
not
found
even
one
left
of
those
who
were
still
here
seven
months
ago
?
”
Hunt
did
not
speak
.
