EpigraphIn which the Gent is relieved that the voyage is almost over—and looks forward, with great satisfaction, to the journey which is about to begin.
I bring you good news, my patient and understanding friends.
We spotted what appears to be our destination today. As of yet it is the barest glint on the horizon, but even that is enough to lift my spirits and cast light upon the shadows of doubt and torment that have been spreading over these decks for so long now.
My dear Captain please forgive me my apprehension of your ability to navigate this inscrutable ocean—this infinite expanse of the damned. Please forgive me my angst and anxiety, as you have proven to be intolerably optimistic about your skills and insufferably dedicated to your journey.
Before long the Leroux shall wash its wretched hull ashore and I, as swift-footedly as my prematurely degenerated body can carry me, shall wade into that New World.
My sweet Captain, I do not mean to insinuate that my time aboard your captivating vessel has been a wasted torture—indeed your company alone has provided a delightful relief from the damnable void that relentlessly seeps through these portholes. I could spend yet another eternity exploring this oblivion. I have grown rather fond of the endless supply of salted beef and the tins of graciously unrecognizable foodstuffs. Any, aye, the motion sickness does indeed, as you once suggested, make one feel alive and appreciative of the calm stillness of the doldrums.
I am beholden to you for granting me an opportunity to explore the mystical side of my nature. This voyage has given me enough time and torment to comprehend the very nature of God. I have grown to understand either He has a sensational sense of wicked whimsey, or He carries upon His indomitable shoulders an anger and vengeful rage every bit as nasty and brutish as is rumored.
I also have you to thank, my brave and stalwart Captain, for exposing me the hitherto inconceivable—the limits of my unfathomable patience. A gentle and noble man, such as myself—living by his own merits and left to his own devices, may have lead his life without once finding himself in such a fanciful situation. The havoc wrecked upon my innocent and kind soul notwithstanding, being confined to these empty depths while simultaneously being forced to cope with the boorish company has been a most worthy enlightenment indeed.
I believe it is the Yanks that have quite the picturesque turn-of-phrase for the likes of you my dear—it is only my respectful and gentle nature that prevents me from reciting it in such delightful company.
I can hardly bring myself to feel bitter about this excursion—for I shall soon skip ashore with the lightest of hearts and rejoice. As you shall be forever fixed in your loathsome journey of that hateful abyss.
I shall look back fondly of you for that fact alone.