out my children? I want to tell you why
it hit me so hard; I kind of think you'll feel bad about it too. It's
about my little Adar. You hadn't ought to have quite said that--but of
course I know you didn't know. She--she's dead, you see.'

'Why, Davis!' cried Herrick. 'You've told me a dozen times she was
alive! Clear your head, man! This must be the drink.'

'No, SIR,' said Davis. 'She's dead. Died of a bowel complaint. That was
when I was away in the brig Oregon. She lies in Portland, Maine. "Adar,
only daughter of Captain John Davis and Mariar his wife, aged five."
I had a doll for her on board. I never took the paper off'n that doll,
Herrick; it went down the way it was with the Sea Ranger, that day I was
damned.'

The Captain's eyes were fixed on the horizon, he talked with an
extraordinary softness but a complete composure; and Herrick looked upon
him with something that was almost terror.

'Don't think I'm crazy neither,' resumed Davis. 'I've all the cold sense
that I know what to do with. But I guess a man that's unhappy's like a
child; and this is a kind of a child's game of mine. I never could act
up to the plain-cut truth, you see; so I pretend. And I warn you square;
as soon as we're through with this talk, I'll start in again with
the pretending. Only, you see, she can't walk no streets,' added the
captain, 'couldn't even make out to live and get that doll!'

Herrick laid a tremulous hand upon the captain's shoulder.

'Don't do that,' cried Davis, recoiling from the touch. 'Can't you see
I'm all broken up the way it is? Come along, then; come along, old
man; you can put your trust in me right through; come along and get dry
clothes.'

They entered the cabin, and there was Huish on his knees prising open a
case of champagne.

''Vast, there!' cried the captain. 'No more of that. No more drinking on
this ship.'

'Turned teetotal, 'ave you?' inquired Hu'sh. 'I'm agreeable. About time,
eh? Bloomin' nearly lost another ship, I fancy.' He took out a bottle
and began calmly to burst the wire with the spike of a corkscrew.

'Do you hear me speak?' cried Davis.

'I suppose I do. You speak loud enough,' said Huish. 'The trouble is
that I don't care.'

Herrick plucked the captain's sleeve. 'Let him free now,' he said.
'We've had all we want this morning.'

'Let him have it then,' said the captain. 'It's his last.'

By this time the wire was open, the string was cut, the head of glided
paper was torn a