{"id":24371,"date":"2025-10-05T09:55:51","date_gmt":"2025-10-05T13:55:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/?p=24371"},"modified":"2025-10-05T09:55:54","modified_gmt":"2025-10-05T13:55:54","slug":"william-hope-hodgson-the-voice-in-the-night","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/short-stories\/william-hope-hodgson-the-voice-in-the-night\/24371\/","title":{"rendered":"William Hope Hodgson: The Voice in the Night"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Synopsis:<\/strong> \u201cThe Voice in the Night<\/em>\u201d is a short story by William Hope Hodgson, first published in November 1907 in The Blue Book Magazine<\/em>. On a starless, misty night in the North Pacific, a schooner lies motionless in the middle of the ocean. Suddenly, a disturbing voice emerges from the fog, repeatedly calling out to the ship. The speaker remains hidden in the shadows and refuses to come near the light. His tone is desperate, and his request, strange. The bewildered sailors try to understand who he is and what mystery lies behind this invisible figure who shuns being seen.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"William<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The Voice in the Night<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

William Hope Hodgson
(Full story)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a dark, starless night. We were becalmed in the Northern Pacific. Our exact position I do not know; for the sun had been hidden during the course of a weary, breathless week, by a thin haze which had seemed to float above us, about the height of our mastheads, at whiles descending and shrouding the surrounding sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With there being no wind, we had steadied the tiller, and I was the only man on deck. The crew, consisting of two men and a boy, were sleeping forrard in their den; while Will \u2014 my friend, and the master of our little craft \u2014 was aft in his bunk on the port side of the little cabin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, from out of the surrounding darkness, there came a hail: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSchooner, ahoy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cry was so unexpected that I gave no immediate answer, because of my surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It came again \u2014 a voice curiously throaty and inhuman, calling from somewhere upon the dark sea away on our port broadside: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSchooner, ahoy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHullo!\u201d I sung out, having gathered my wits somewhat. \u201cWhat are you? What do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou need not be afraid,\u201d answered the queer voice, having probably noticed some trace of confusion in my tone. \u201cI am only an old \u2014 man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pause sounded oddly; but it was only afterwards that it came back to me with any significance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you come alongside, then?\u201d I queried somewhat snappishly; for I liked not his hinting at my having been a trifle shaken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI \u2014 I \u2014 can\u2019t. It wouldn\u2019t be safe. I \u2014 \u2014\u201d The voice broke off, and there was silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d I asked, growing more and more astonished. \u201cWhy not safe? Where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I listened for a moment; but there came no answer. And then, a sudden indefinite suspicion, of I knew not what, coming to me, I stepped swiftly to the binnacle, and took out the lighted lamp. At the same time, I knocked on the deck with my heel to waken Will. Then I was back at the side, throwing the yellow funnel of light out into the silent immensity beyond our rail. As I did so, I heard a slight, muffled cry, and then the sound of a splash, as though some one had dipped oars abruptly. Yet I cannot say that I saw anything with certainty; save, it seemed to me, that with the first flash of the light, there had been something upon the waters, where now there was nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHullo, there!\u201d I called. \u201cWhat foolery is this!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But there came only the indistinct sounds of a boat being pulled away into the night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then I heard Will\u2019s voice, from the direction of the after scuttle: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up, George?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome here, Will!\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked, coming across the deck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I told him the queer thing which had happened. He put several questions; then, after a moment\u2019s silence, he raised his hands to his lips, and hailed: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoat, ahoy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From a long distance away, there came back to us a faint reply, and my companion repeated his call. Presently, after a short period of silence, there grew on our hearing the muffled sound of oars; at which Will hailed again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This time there was a reply: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPut away the light.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m damned if I will,\u201d I muttered; but Will told me to do as the voice bade, and I shoved it down under the bulwarks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome nearer,\u201d he said, and the oar-strokes continued. Then, when apparently some half-dozen fathoms distant, they again ceased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome alongside,\u201d exclaimed Will. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing to be frightened of aboard here!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPromise that you will not show the light?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s to do with you,\u201d I burst out, \u201cthat you\u2019re so infernally afraid of the light?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause \u2014 \u2014\u201d began the voice, and stopped short.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause what?\u201d I asked, quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will put his hand on my shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShut up a minute, old man,\u201d he said, in a low voice. \u201cLet me tackle him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He leant more over the rail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSee here, Mister,\u201d he said, \u201cthis is a pretty queer business, you coming upon us like this, right out in the middle of the blessed Pacific. How are we to know what sort of a hanky-panky trick you\u2019re up to? You say there\u2019s only one of you. How are we to know, unless we get a squint at you \u2014 eh? What\u2019s your objection to the light, anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As he finished, I heard the noise of the oars again, and then the voice came; but now from a greater distance, and sounding extremely hopeless and pathetic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am sorry \u2014 sorry! I would not have troubled you, only I am hungry, and \u2014 so is she.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice died away, and the sound of the oars, dipping irregularly, was borne to us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStop!\u201d sung out Will. \u201cI don\u2019t want to drive you away. Come back! We\u2019ll keep the light hidden, if you don\u2019t like it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned to me: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a damned queer rig, this; but I think there\u2019s nothing to be afraid of?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a question in his tone, and I replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I think the poor devil\u2019s been wrecked around here, and gone crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sound of the oars drew nearer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShove that lamp back in the binnacle,\u201d said Will; then he leaned over the rail, and listened. I replaced the lamp, and came back to his side. The dipping of the oars ceased some dozen yards distant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWon\u2019t you come alongside now?\u201d asked Will in an even voice. \u201cI have had the lamp put back in the binnacle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI \u2014 I cannot,\u201d replied the voice. \u201cI dare not come nearer. I dare not even pay you for the \u2014 the provisions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all right,\u201d said Will, and hesitated. \u201cYou\u2019re welcome to as much grub as you can take \u2014 \u2014\u201d Again he hesitated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are very good,\u201d exclaimed the voice. \u201cMay God, Who understands everything, reward you \u2014 \u2014\u201d It broke off huskily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe \u2014 the lady?\u201d said Will, abruptly. \u201cIs she \u2014 \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have left her behind upon the island,\u201d came the voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat island?\u201d I cut in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know not its name,\u201d returned the voice. \u201cI would to God \u2014\u2014 !\u201d it began, and checked itself as suddenly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCould we not send a boat for her?\u201d asked Will at this point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo!\u201d said the voice, with extraordinary emphasis. \u201cMy God! No!\u201d There was a moment\u2019s pause; then it added, in a tone which seemed a merited reproach: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was because of our want I ventured \u2014 Because her agony tortured me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am a forgetful brute,\u201d exclaimed Will. \u201cJust wait a minute, whoever you are, and I will bring you up something at once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a couple of minutes he was back again, and his arms were full of various edibles. He paused at the rail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan\u2019t you come alongside for them?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo \u2014 I dare not<\/em>,\u201d replied the voice, and it seemed to me that in its tones I detected a note of stifled craving \u2014 as though the owner hushed a mortal desire. It came to me then in a flash, that the poor old creature out there in the darkness, was suffering<\/em> for actual need of that which Will held in his arms; and yet, because of some unintelligible dread, refraining from dashing to the side of our little schooner, and receiving it. And with the lightning-like conviction, there came the knowledge that the Invisible was not mad; but sanely facing some intolerable horror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDamn it, Will!\u201d I said, full of many feelings, over which predominated a vast sympathy. \u201cGet a box. We must float off the stuff to him in it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This we did \u2014 propelling it away from the vessel, out into the darkness, by means of a boathook. In  a minute, a slight cry from the Invisible came to us, and we knew that he had secured the box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A little later, he called out a farewell to us, and so heartful a blessing, that I am sure we were the better for it. Then, without more ado, we heard the ply of oars across the darkness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPretty soon off,\u201d remarked Will, with perhaps just a little sense of injury.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWait,\u201d I replied. \u201cI think somehow he\u2019ll come back. He must have been badly needing that food.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd the lady,\u201d said Will. For a moment he was silent; then he continued: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the queerest thing ever I\u2019ve tumbled across, since I\u2019ve been fishing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said, and fell to pondering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so the time slipped away \u2014 an hour, another, and still Will stayed with me; for the queer adventure had knocked all desire for sleep out of him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The third hour was three parts through, when we heard again the sound of oars across the silent ocean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cListen!\u201d said Will, a low note of excitement in his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s coming, just as I thought,\u201d I muttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The dipping of the oars grew nearer, and I noted that the strokes were firmer and longer. The food had been needed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They came to a stop a little distance off the broadside, and the queer voice came again to us through the darkness: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSchooner, ahoy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat you?\u201d asked Will.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d replied the voice. \u201cI left you suddenly; but \u2014 but there was great need.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe lady?\u201d questioned Will.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe \u2014 lady is grateful now on earth. She will be more grateful soon in \u2014 in heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will began to make some reply, in a puzzled voice; but became confused, and broke off short. I said nothing. I was wondering at the curious pauses, and, apart from my wonder, I was full of a great sympathy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice continued: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe \u2014 she and I, have talked, as we shared the result of God\u2019s tenderness and yours \u2014 \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will interposed; but without coherence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI beg of you not to \u2014 to belittle your deed of Christian charity this night,\u201d said the voice. \u201cBe sure that it has not escaped His notice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It stopped, and there was a full minute\u2019s silence. Then it came again: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe have spoken together upon that which \u2014 which has befallen us. We had thought to go out, without telling any, of the terror which has come into our \u2014 lives. She is with me in believing that to-night\u2019s happenings are under a special ruling, and that it is God\u2019s wish that we should tell to you all that we have suffered since \u2014 since \u2014 \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes?\u201d said Will, softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSince the sinking of the \u2018Albatross.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh!\u201d I exclaimed, involuntarily. \u201cShe left Newcastle for \u2018Frisco some six months ago, and hasn\u2019t been heard of since.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d answered the voice. \u201cBut some few degrees to the North of the line she was caught in a terrible storm, and dismasted. When the day came, it was found that she was leaking badly, and, presently, it falling to a calm, the sailors took to the boats, leaving \u2014 leaving a young lady \u2014 my fianc\u00e9e \u2014 and myself upon the wreck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were below, gathering together a few of our belongings, when they left. They were entirely callous, through fear, and when we came up upon the decks, we saw them only as small shapes afar off upon the horizon. Yet we did not despair, but set to work and constructed a small raft. Upon this we put such few matters as it would hold, including a quantity of water and some ship\u2019s biscuit. Then, the vessel being very deep in the water, we got ourselves on to the raft, and pushed off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was later, when I observed that we seemed to be in the way of some tide or current, which bore us from the ship at an angle; so that in the course of three hours, by my watch, her hull became invisible to our sight, her broken masts remaining in view for a somewhat longer period. Then, towards evening, it grew misty, and so through the night. The next day we were still encompassed by the mist, the weather remaining quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor four days, we drifted through this strange haze, until, on the evening of the fourth day, there grew upon our ears the murmur of breakers at a distance. Gradually it became plainer, and, somewhat after midnight, it appeared to sound upon either hand at no very great space. The raft was raised upon a swell several times, and then we were in smooth water, and the noise of the breakers was behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen the morning came, we found that we were in a sort of great lagoon; but of this we noticed little at the time; for close before us, through the enshrouding mist, loomed the hull of a large sailing-vessel. With one accord, we fell upon our knees and thanked God; for we thought that here was an end to our perils. We had much to learn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe raft drew near to the ship, and we shouted  on them, to take us aboard; but none answered. Presently, the raft touched against the side of the vessel, and, seeing a rope hanging downwards, I seized it and began to climb. Yet I had much ado to make my way up, because of a kind of grey, lichenous fungus, which had seized upon the rope, and which blotched the side of the ship, lividly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI reached the rail, and clambered over it, on to the deck. Here, I saw that the decks were covered, in great patches, with the grey masses, some of them rising into nodules several feet in height; but at the time, I thought less of this matter than of the possibility of there being people aboard the ship. I shouted; but none answered. Then I went to the door below the poop deck. I opened it, and peered in. There was a great smell of staleness, so that I knew in a moment that nothing living was within, and with the knowledge, I shut the door quickly; for I felt suddenly lonely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI went back to the side, where I had scrambled up. My \u2014 my sweetheart was still sitting quietly upon the raft. Seeing me look down, she called up to know whether there were any aboard of the ship. I replied that the vessel had the appearance of having been long deserted; but that if she would wait a little, I would see whether there was anything in the shape of a ladder, by which she could ascend to the deck. Then we would make a search through the vessel together. A little later, on the opposite side of the decks, I found a rope side-ladder. This I carried across, and a minute afterwards, she was beside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTogether, we explored the cabins and apartments in the after-part of the ship; but nowhere was there any sign of life. Here and there, within the cabins themselves, we came across odd patches of that  queer fungus; but this, as my sweetheart said, could be cleansed away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the end, having assured ourselves that the after portion of the vessel was empty, we picked our ways to the bows, between the ugly grey nodules of that strange growth; and here we made a further search, which told us that there was indeed none aboard but ourselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis being now beyond any doubt, we returned to the stern of the ship, and proceeded to make ourselves as comfortable as possible. Together, we cleared out and cleaned two of the cabins; and, after that, I made examination whether there was anything eatable in the ship. This I soon found was so, and thanked God in my heart for His goodness. In addition to this, I discovered the whereabouts of the freshwater pump, and having fixed it, I found the water drinkable, though somewhat unpleasant to the taste.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor several days, we stayed aboard the ship, without attempting to get to the shore. We were busily engaged in making the place habitable. Yet even thus early, we became aware that our lot was even less to be desired than might have been imagined; for though, as a first step, we scraped away the odd patches of growth that studded the floors and walls of the cabins and saloon, yet they returned almost to their original size within the space of twenty-four hours, which not only discouraged us, but gave us a feeling of vague unease.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill, we would not admit ourselves beaten, so set to work afresh, and not only scraped away the fungus, but soaked the places where it had been, with carbolic, a can-full of which I had found in the pantry. Yet, by the end of the week, the growth had returned in full strength, and, in addition, it  had spread to other places, as though our touching it had allowed germs from it to travel elsewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOn the seventh morning, my sweetheart woke to find a small patch of it growing on her pillow, close to her face. At that, she came to me, so soon as she could get her garments upon her. I was in the galley at the time, lighting the fire for breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Come here, John,\u2019 she said, and led me aft. When I saw the thing upon her pillow, I shuddered, and then and there we agreed to go right out of the ship, and see whether we could not fare to make ourselves more comfortable ashore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHurriedly, we gathered together our few belongings, and even among these, I found that the fungus had been at work; for one of her shawls had a little lump of it growing near one edge. I threw the whole thing over the side, without saying anything to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe raft was still alongside; but it was too clumsy to guide, and I lowered down a small boat that hung across the stern, and in this we made our way to the shore. Yet, as we drew near to it, I became gradually aware that here the vile fungus, which had driven us from the ship, was growing riot. In places it rose into horrible, fantastic mounds, which seemed almost to quiver, as with a quiet life, when the wind blew across them. Here and there, it took on the forms of vast fingers, and in others it just spread out flat and smooth and treacherous. Odd places, it appeared as grotesque stunted trees, seeming extraordinarily kinked and gnarled \u2014\u2014 The whole quaking vilely at times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt first, it seemed to us that there was no single portion of the surrounding shore which was not hidden beneath the masses of the hideous lichen; yet, in this, I found we were mistaken; for somewhat  later, coasting along the shore at a little distance, we descried a smooth white patch of what appeared to be find sand, and there we landed. It was not sand. What it was, I do not know. All that I have observed, is that upon it, the fungus will not grow; while everywhere else, save where the sand-like earth wanders oddly, path-wise, amid the grey desolation of the lichen, there is nothing but that loathsome greyness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is difficult to make you understand how cheered we were to find one place that was absolutely free from the growth, and here we deposited our belongings. Then we went back to the ship for such things as it seemed to us we should need. Among other matters, I managed to bring ashore with me one of the ship\u2019s sails, with which I constructed two small tents, which, though exceedingly rough-shaped, served the purposes for which they were intended. In these, we lived and stored our various necessities, and thus for a matter of some four weeks, all went smoothly and without particular unhappiness. Indeed, I may say with much of happiness \u2014\u2014 for \u2014 for we were together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was on the thumb of her right hand, that the growth first showed. It was only a small circular spot, much like a little grey mole. My God! how the fear leapt to my heart when she showed me the place. We cleansed it, between us, washing it with carbolic and water. In the morning of the following day, she showed her hand to me again. The grey warty thing had returned. For a little while, we looked at one another in silence. Then, still wordless, we started again to remove it. In the midst of the operation, she spoke suddenly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that on the side of your face, Dear!\u201d Her voice was sharp with anxiety. I put my hand up to feel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018There! Under the hair by your ear. \u2014 A little to the front a bit.\u2019 My finger rested upon the place, and then I knew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Let us get your thumb done first,\u2019 I said. And she submitted, only because she was afraid to touch me until it was cleansed. I finished washing and disinfecting her thumb, and then she turned to my face. After it was finished, we sat together and talked awhile of many things; for there had come into our lives sudden, very terrible thoughts. We were, all at once, afraid of something worse than death. We spoke of loading the boat with provisions and water, and making our way out on to the sea; yet we were helpless, for many causes, and \u2014 and the growth had attacked us already. We decided to stay. God would do with us what was His will. We would wait.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA month, two months, three months passed, and the places grew somewhat, and there had come others. Yet we fought so strenuously with the fear, that its headway was but slow, comparatively speaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOccasionally, we ventured off to the ship for such stores as we needed. There, we found that the fungus grew persistently. One of the nodules on the maindeck became soon as high as my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe had now given up all thought or hope of leaving the island. We had realised that it would be unallowable to go among healthy humans, with the thing from which we were suffering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWith this determination and knowledge in our minds, we knew that we should have to husband our food and water; for we did not know, at that time, but that we should possibly live for many years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis reminds me that I have told you that I am  an old man. Judged by years this is not so. But \u2014 but \u2014 \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He broke off; then continued somewhat abruptly: \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs I was saying, we knew that we should have to use care in the matter of food. But we had no idea then how little food there was left, of which to take care. It was a week later, that I made the discovery that all the other bread tanks \u2014 which I had supposed full \u2014 were empty, and that (beyond odd tins of vegetables and meat, and some other matters) we had nothing on which to depend, but the bread in the tank which I had already opened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfter learning this, I bestirred myself to do what I could, and set to work at fishing in the lagoon; but with no success. At this, I was somewhat inclined to feel desperate, until the thought came to me to try outside the lagoon, in the open sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere, at times, I caught odd fish; but, so infrequently, that they proved of but little help in keeping us from the hunger which threatened. It seemed to me that our deaths were likely to come by hunger, and not by the growth of the thing which had seized upon our bodies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were in this state of mind when the fourth month wore out. Then I made a very horrible discovery. One morning, a little before midday, I came off from the ship, with a portion of the biscuits which were left. In the mouth of her tent, I saw my sweetheart sitting, eating something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018What is it, my Dear?\u2019 I called out as I leapt ashore. Yet, on hearing my voice, she seemed confused, and, turning, slyly threw something towards the edge of the little clearing. It fell short, and, a vague suspicion having arisen within me, I walked across and picked it up. It was a piece of the grey fungus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs I went to her, with it in my hand, she turned deadly pale; then a rose red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI felt strangely dazed and frightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018My Dear! My Dear!\u2019 I said, and could say no more. Yet, at my words, she broke down and cried bitterly. Gradually, as she calmed, I got from her the news that she had tried it the preceding day, and \u2014 and liked it. I got her to promise on her knees not to touch it again, however great our hunger. After she had promised, she told me that the desire for it had come suddenly, and that, until the moment of desire, she had experienced nothing towards it, but the most extreme repulsion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLater in the day, feeling strangely restless, and much shaken with the thing which I had discovered, I made my way along one of the twisted paths \u2014 formed by the white, sand-like substance \u2014 which led among the fungoid growth. I had, once before, ventured along there; but not to any great distance. This time, being involved in perplexing thought, I went much further than hitherto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSuddenly, I was called to myself, by a queer hoarse sound on my left. Turning quickly, I saw that there was movement among an extraordinarily shaped mass of fungus, close to my elbow. It was swaying uneasily, as though it possessed life of its own. Abruptly, as I stared, the thought came to me that the thing had a grotesque resemblance to the figure of a distorted human creature. Even as the fancy flashed into my brain, there was a slight, sickening noise of tearing, and I saw that one of the branch-like arms was detaching itself from the surrounding grey masses, and coming towards me. The head of the thing \u2014 a shapeless grey ball, inclined in my direction. I stood stupidly, and the vile arm brushed  across my face. I gave out a frightened cry, and ran back a few paces. There was a sweetish taste upon my lips, where the thing had touched me. I licked them, and was immediately filled with an inhuman desire. I turned and seized a mass of the fungus. Then more, and \u2014 more. I was insatiable. In the midst of devouring, the remembrance of the morning\u2019s discovery swept into my mazed brain. It was sent by God. I dashed the fragment I held, to the ground. Then, utterly wretched and feeling a dreadful guiltiness, I made my way back to the little encampment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think she knew, by some marvellous intuition which love must have given, so soon as she set eyes on me. Her quiet sympathy made it easier for me, and I told her of my sudden weakness; yet omitted to mention the extraordinary thing which had gone before. I desired to spare her all unnecessary terror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut, for myself, I had added an intolerable knowledge, to breed an incessant terror in my brain; for I doubted not but that I had seen the end of one of those men who had come to the island in the ship in the lagoon; and in that monstrous ending, I had seen our own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThereafter, we kept from the abominable food, though the desire for it had entered into our blood. Yet, our drear punishment was upon us; for, day by day, with monstrous rapidity, the fungoid growth took hold of our poor bodies. Nothing we could do would check it materially, and so \u2014 and so \u2014 we who had been human, became \u2014 Well, it matters less each day. Only \u2014 only we had been man and maid!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd day by day, the fight is more dreadful, to withstand the hunger-lust for the terrible lichen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA week ago we ate the last of the biscuit, and  since that time I have caught three fish. I was out here fishing to-night, when your schooner drifted upon me out of the mist. I hailed you. You know the rest, and may God, out of His great heart, bless you for your goodness to a \u2014 a couple of poor outcast souls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was the dip of an oar \u2014 another. Then the voice came again, and for the last time, sounding through the slight surrounding mist, ghostly and mournful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGod bless you! Good-bye!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood-bye,\u201d we shouted together, hoarsely, our hearts full of many emotions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I glanced about me. I became aware that the dawn was upon us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sun flung a stray beam across the hidden sea; pierced the mist dully, and lit up the receding boat with a gloomy fire. Indistinctly, I saw something nodding between the oars. I thought of a sponge \u2014 a great, grey nodding sponge \u2014\u2014 The oars continued to ply. They were grey \u2014 as was the boat \u2014 and my eyes searched a moment vainly for the conjunction of hand and oar. My gaze flashed back to the \u2014 head. It nodded forward as the oars went backward for the stroke. Then the oars were dipped, the boat shot out of the patch of light, and the \u2014 the thing went nodding into the mist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE END<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe Voice in the Night\u201d is a short story by William Hope Hodgson, first published in November 1907 in The Blue Book Magazine. On a starless, misty night in the North Pacific, a schooner lies motionless in the middle of the ocean. Suddenly, a disturbing voice emerges from the fog, repeatedly calling out to the ship. The speaker remains hidden in the shadows and refuses to come near the light. His tone is desperate, and his request, strange. The bewildered sailors try to understand who he is and what mystery lies behind this invisible figure who shuns being seen.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":24367,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[559],"tags":[572,772,1441],"class_list":["post-24371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-stories","tag-horror-en","tag-united-kingdom","tag-william-hope-hodgson-en","generate-columns","tablet-grid-50","mobile-grid-100","grid-parent","grid-33"],"acf":[],"taxonomy_info":{"category":[{"value":559,"label":"Short stories"}],"post_tag":[{"value":572,"label":"Horror"},{"value":772,"label":"United Kingdom"},{"value":1441,"label":"William Hope Hodgson"}]},"featured_image_src_large":["https:\/\/lecturia.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/William-Hope-Hodgson-Una-voz-en-la-noche.webp",1024,1024,false],"author_info":{"display_name":"Juan Pablo Guevara","author_link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/author\/spartakku\/"},"comment_info":"","category_info":[{"term_id":559,"name":"Short stories","slug":"short-stories","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":559,"taxonomy":"category","description":"","parent":0,"count":419,"filter":"raw","cat_ID":559,"category_count":419,"category_description":"","cat_name":"Short stories","category_nicename":"short-stories","category_parent":0}],"tag_info":[{"term_id":572,"name":"Horror","slug":"horror-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":572,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":127,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":772,"name":"United Kingdom","slug":"united-kingdom","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":772,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":92,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":1441,"name":"William Hope Hodgson","slug":"william-hope-hodgson-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":1441,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":1,"filter":"raw"}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24371","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24371"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24371\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24367"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}