Summary

In a flurry of rushing thoughts, the narrator suddenly reveals that he is alone: “Now it is I the orator, the beleaguerers have departed, I am master on board . . .” (385). He dreams an image of dew-covered grass, and men coming and going, while wondering whether he will ever stop desiring for a life beyond his present circumstances. Though he contends his voice, or “the “voice” is going silent, he simultaneously says he “must go on . . . unless this time it’s the true silence, the one [he’ll] never have to break anymore” (386). The narrator considers whether the departure of Mahood and the masters means that he will cease to be soon, but notes that he cannot know what will follow, for he has no memory of the way things are. He feels that his words are running out but that he has no way of...