y without saying
anything himself.

In response to my assertion that we had been exceedingly busy getting
ready for the trip he said simply: "Indeed!"

It was a very unusual burst of confidence in which he was moved to
express his views with any greater freedom. When the remark which
preceded it was evidently expected to meet with Mr. Murmurtot's
concurrence, then he would say, "Yes, indeed!"

If the remark were one to which this response would be inappropriate he
often went to the extent of observing, "I dare say!" seemingly
ventured after careful consideration of the chances for and against the
proposition which provoked it.

"My dear sir, I do not agree with you," he would always say when he felt
compelled to differ with me. If the difference in our views chanced to
be extremely radical, he would throw particular emphasis upon the word
"dear," as a sort of recompense for his opposition. These forms of
speech, with occasional and slight variations, were always employed by
Mr. Murmurtot as a medium of thought and sentiment.

In the midst of our conversation I noticed the man whom Rayel had
pointed out to me when we arose from the breakfast-table. He was
standing against the rail, not twenty feet from where we sat, and as I
looked at him he turned away and walked leisurely down the deck. In a
moment Rayel was on his feet, and, excusing himself, he proceeded in
the same direction. An hour later, as he had not returned, I left Hester
with Mr. Murmurtot and went forward in quest of him. He was in the
reading-room, apparently interested in a newspaper. As he did not
observe me, I sat down behind his chair without disturbing him. To my
surprise I saw that he was not reading the paper, but that his eyes were
furtively watching the mysterious stranger he had followed, who sat
on the other side of the room listlessly puffing at a cigarette. I was
seated scarcely a moment when Rayel seemed to be aware of my presence.
Looking from face to face until he had discovered me he arose and came
to my side.

"I was trying to read a newspaper," said he, leading the way to the
door, "but reading is still hard work for me."

"I saw that you did not seem to be looking at the paper," said I, as
we proceeded to the deck. He made no reply, but stopped and looked out
across the waste of waters at the horizon.

"Do you know that man?" I asked.

For a moment I stood waiting for his answer. Apparently he had not heard
my question, and I