so, cutting the lashing of the waterproof match keg, after many failures starbuck contrived to ignite the lamp in the lantern; then stretching it on a waif pole, handed it to queequeg as the standard-bearer of this forlorn hope. there, then, he sat, holding up that imbecile candle in the heart of that almighty forlornness. there, then, he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope in the midst of despair.