he gave
himself up to visions of the future--to the day when, with his hand on
Cressingham's lying throat, he would see his face blacken and hear the
rattling agonies of his gasps for breath. He leaned back in his chair
and laughed hoarsely. The unearthly, hideous sound startled him, and he
glanced round nervously as if he feared to betray his secret. Then he
drank another glass of brandy, and with twenty-six shillings of prison
money in his pocket and ten years of the blackest hatred in his heart,
he went out again into the world to begin his search--for Cressingham
and revenge.

II.

The people of Port ------, on the east coast of New Zealand, were
charmed with the handsome commander of the biggest ocean steamer that
had yet visited the port, and on the eve of his departure gave Captain
Cressingham the usual banquet. Banquets to captains of new lines of
steamers are good things to boom the interests of a budding seaport
town, and so a few score of the "warmest" men in the place cheerfully
planked down their guinea each for the occasion.

The _Belted Will_ had hauled out from the wharf and lay a mile or so
from the shore ready for sea, and the captain had told his chief officer
to send a boat ashore for him at twelve o'clock.

Among the crowd that lounged about the entrance to the town hall and
watched for the arrival of the guest of the evening was a tall, dark,
rough-looking man with white curly hair. One or two of those present
seemed to know him, and presently some one addressed him.

"Hallo, Harry! come to have a look at the swells? 'Taint often you come
out o' nights."

The white-haired man nodded without speaking, and then moved away again.
Presently the man he was looking for was driven up, and the loungers
drew aside to let him pass up the steps into the blaze of light under
the vestibule of the hall, where he was welcomed by half a dozen
effusive citizens. For a moment he stood and chatted, and the man who
watched clenched his brawny hands and ground his teeth. Then Captain
Cressingham disappeared, and the tall man walked slowly away again in
the direction of the wharves.

*****

At eleven o'clock Cressingham's boat came ashore, and the crew as they
made her fast grumbled and cursed in true sailor fashion.

"Are you the chaps from the _Belted Will?_" said a man, who was leaning
against one of the wharf sheds.

"Yes; who are you, mister?" said one of them.

"I'm Harry--one of the hands tha