rd master."

Again Don Benito shrank; and this time, as the good sailor thought, from
a genuine twinge of his conscience.

Again conversation became constrained. In vain Captain Delano called
attention to the now perceptible motion of the keel gently cleaving the
sea; with lack-lustre eye, Don Benito returned words few and reserved.

By-and-by, the wind having steadily risen, and still blowing right into
the harbor bore the San Dominick swiftly on. Sounding a point of land,
the sealer at distance came into open view.

Meantime Captain Delano had again repaired to the deck, remaining there
some time. Having at last altered the ship's course, so as to give the
reef a wide berth, he returned for a few moments below.

I will cheer up my poor friend, this time, thought he.

"Better and better," Don Benito, he cried as he blithely re-entered:
"there will soon be an end to your cares, at least for awhile. For when,
after a long, sad voyage, you know, the anchor drops into the haven, all
its vast weight seems lifted from the captain's heart. We are getting on
famously, Don Benito. My ship is in sight. Look through this side-light
here; there she is; all a-taunt-o! The Bachelor's Delight, my good
friend. Ah, how this wind braces one up. Come, you must take a cup of
coffee with me this evening. My old steward will give you as fine a cup
as ever any sultan tasted. What say you, Don Benito, will you?"

At first, the Spaniard glanced feverishly up, casting a longing look
towards the sealer, while with mute concern his servant gazed into his
face. Suddenly the old ague of coldness returned, and dropping back to
his cushions he was silent.

"You do not answer. Come, all day you have been my host; would you have
hospitality all on one side?"

"I cannot go," was the response.

"What? it will not fatigue you. The ships will lie together as near as
they can, without swinging foul. It will be little more than stepping
from deck to deck; which is but as from room to room. Come, come, you
must not refuse me."

"I cannot go," decisively and repulsively repeated Don Benito.

Renouncing all but the last appearance of courtesy, with a sort of
cadaverous sullenness, and biting his thin nails to the quick, he
glanced, almost glared, at his guest, as if impatient that a stranger's
presence should interfere with the full indulgence of his morbid hour.
Meantime the sound of the parted waters came more and more gurglingly
and merrily in