Until this night Philip had fancied that the dwelling would serve him as an impregnable fort; but the result of the first day’s battle showed how idle was such belief. It was hardly probable the building would withstand another attack, and he who had flattered himself that he was safe as long as he remained indoors understood how shelterless he would be after four or five hours more of stone-throwing.

The knowledge of such imminent danger had a beneficial effect upon the solitary occupant of Captain Seaworth’s house. It cleared the fumes of liquor from his brain, as it were, and left him weaker in body, but mentally better able to comprehend his exact position.

Carrying his weapons, he descended to the kitchen once more, and there the excitement brought on a fever turn, with which came also despair. He was like one in an ague-fit, and after the heat of the melee had subsided—which was not until he had partially cleaned his weapons with wine instead of water—a cold chill took possession of him.

Now a covering of some sort became necessary. It seemed as if he was literally freezing to death,[188] and with a lighted candle in his hand he rushed frantically upstairs, hoping to find draperies with which to screen his almost naked body, or failing in that, intending to use the light covering of the bed.

Ammunition had become as essential to success as clothing, and again he searched feverishly around the room.

It was while overhauling one of Captain Seaworth’s chests that Philip placed his hands on a thick fur which felt soft as silk.

Delighted at the discovery he examined it closely, and found that it was the entire hide of an animal similar to those by whom he was besieged. From its enormous size he became convinced it was the coat of the gigantic mandrill killed by the captain—the same brute whose skeleton, hanging in the mimosas, had caused him so much surprise as well as fear.

With the exception of a slit in the stomach the hide had been taken off entire, and, shrunken somewhat during the process of drying, it fitted Philip as well as if it were made by an expert furrier.

Through the opening in the front he inserted his body, as does a boy who puts on one of those peculiar night-gowns made to cover each limb; and in order that none of the warmth so necessary just then should escape, he laced up the aperture with a piece of string. Pulling the top of the hide over his head, he had cap, coat and trousers of the same material, all fitting like a glove, and warm enough to withstand the rigors of an Arctic winter.

[189]

When his toilet was completed he looked at himself in the glass, but immediately drew back with a cry of alarm.

His brown skin, thin cheeks and parched lips, which allowed his teeth to be seen, his prominent cheek-bones, disheveled hair, together with eyes hollow and restless, because of the fever, caused him to look exactly like the ape whose garment he was wearing.

It would hardly be possible to imagine a more striking resemblance, and Philip himself was decidedly troubled. It seemed as if he had descended, both in body and mind, to the level of his enemies.

There was warmth in this garment, however, and with it came a return of the fever. At all events, it is better to say his subsequent movements were caused by the fire in his blood than to fancy for a single moment that the skin of the animal had such an effect as to make him leap over the chairs or tables in the same fashion as its original owner might have done.

He was transformed into an ape in appearance, and one could fancy this had unsettled his mind, for many moments elapsed before he resumed the bearing of a human being.

Then he descended to the kitchen, spread for himself a repast composed of delicacies which had become distasteful, and forced himself to eat until the generous food caused the fever to subside somewhat.

The sight of his fur-covered arms almost frightened him, and not for all the treasure in the subterranean[190] chambers would he have taken another glance at the glass, lest his own identity be forgotten in the belief that he had become one of that species in whose education he formerly felt so much interest.

His mind was a curious mixture of fancies and realities, all so strangely interwoven that it seemed more like some hideous nightmare than the events of life.

Not until nearly daybreak did he fall into an uneasy slumber, which brought with it representations of every specimen of the monkey-tribe, and on awakening shortly after sunrise he felt as weary as if sleep had long been a stranger to his eyelids.

It was necessary he should be at his post of duty when the battle was opened once more, as it undoubtedly soon would be, and with his weapons in but little better condition than on the previou............