on board that isn't
horrible," he retorted briskly, as he screwed on the stopper of the
flask; "and here's another," he added, as he took a cigar from his
case and lit it. "Three o'clock!" he went on, looking at his watch, and
settling himself comfortably on deck with his back against the bulwark.
"Daybreak isn't far off; we shall have the piping of the birds to cheer
us up before long. I say, Midwinter, you seem to have quite got over
that unlucky fainting fit. How you do keep walking! Come here and have
a cigar, and make yourself comfortable. What's the good of tramping
backward and forward in that restless way?"

"I am waiting," said Midwinter.

"Waiting! What for?"

"For what is to happen to you or to me--or to both of us--before we are
out of this ship."

"With submission to your superior judgment, my dear fellow, I think
quite enough has happened already. The adventure will do very well as
it stands now; more of it is more than I want." He took another dram
of whisky, and rambled on, between the puffs of his cigar, in his usual
easy way. "I've not got your fine imagination, old boy; and I hope the
next thing that happens will be the appearance of the workmen's boat. I
suspect that queer fancy of yours has been running away with you while
you were down here all by yourself. Come, now, what were you thinking of
while I was up in the mizzen-top frightening the cows?"

Midwinter suddenly stopped. "Suppose I tell you?" he said.

"Suppose you do?"

The torturing temptation to reveal the truth, roused once already by his
companion's merciless gayety of spirit, possessed itself of Midwinter
for the second time. He leaned back in the dark against the high side
of the ship, and looked down in silence at Allan's figure, stretched
comfortably on the deck. "Rouse him," the fiend whispered, subtly, "from
that ignorant self-possession and that pitiless repose. Show him the
place where the deed was done; let him know it with your knowledge, and
fear it with your dread. Tell him of the letter you burned, and of the
words no fire can destroy which are living in your memory now. Let him
see your mind as it was yesterday, when it roused your sinking faith in
your own convictions, to look back on your life at sea, and to cherish
the comforting remembrance that, in all your voyages, you had never
fallen in with this ship. Let him see your mind as it is now, when the
ship has got you at the turning-point of your new life, at the