ames of my friends in the cities mentioned I have written down for
you; they will serve you for the memory of my name; but be assured at
the outset that you will never take this man upon the sea. And as for
the money which is rightly due to the one who rids humanity of this
pest, I say, go to the Admiralty in London, and lay so much of your
knowledge before them as shall prevent a robbery of your due; claim a
fit reward from them and the steamship companies; and, as your
beginning, go now to the Hudson River--I meant to go within a
month--and learn there more of the man you seek; or, if the time be
ripe, lay hands there upon him. And may the spirit of a dead man
breathe success upon you!"

_On the yacht "Celsis" lying at Cowes, written in the month of
August, for Mark Strong._

When I put down the papers, my eyes were tear-stained with the effort
of reading, and the cabin lamp was nigh out. My interest in the writing
had been so sustained that I had not seen the march of daylight, now
streaming through the glass above, upon my bare cabin table. But I was
burnt up almost with a fever; and the oppressive fumes from the
stinking lamp seemed to choke me, so that I went above, and saw that we
were at anchor in the Solent, and that the whole glory of a summer's
dawn lit the sleeping waters. And all the yacht herself breathed sleep,
for the others were below, and Dan alone paced the deck.

The first knowledge that I had of the true effect of Martin Hall's
narrative was the muttered exclamation of this old sailor--

"Ye haven't slept, sir," said he; "ye're just the colour of yon
ensign!"

"Quite true, Dan--it was close down there."

"Gospel truth, without a hitch! but ye're precious bad, sir; I never
seed a worse figger-'ed, excusing the liberty. I'd rest a bit, sir."

"Good advice, Dan. I'll sleep here an hour, if you'll get my rug from
below."

I stretched myself on a deck-chair, and he covered my limbs almost with
a woman's tenderness, so that I slept and dreamt again of Hall, of
Captain Black, of the man "Four-Eyes," of a great holocaust on the sea.
I was carried away by sleep to far cities and among other men, to great
perils of the sea, to strange sights; but over them all loomed the
phantom of a golden ship, and from her decks great fires came. When I
awoke, a doctor from Southsea was writing down the names of drugs upon
paper; and Mary was busy with ice. They told me I had slept for thirty
hours, and t