is senses
together, to step out of himself and put his mind into a working order
of thought, so that he might weigh and sift the occurrences of these
recent events.

The first question which had flashed into everybody's mind was, What
had led to this sudden attack? Had they been betrayed? and if so, Who
had betrayed them? Could it be Jonathan? Though the thought was at once
negatived, no other outsider knew of their intended movements. Of
course the matter had been discussed--as all matters were discussed and
voted for or against--among the crew; but to doubt either of them was
to doubt one's self, and any fear of betrayal among themselves was
unknown. The amount of baseness such a suspicion would imply was too
great to be incurred even in thought. What, then, could have led to
this surprise? Had their movements been watched, and this decoy of the
cutter only swallowed with the view of throwing them off their guard?

Adam was lost in speculation, from which he was aroused by the door
being softly opened and Joan coming in. "Why, Adam, I thought to find
'ee in bed," she said. "Come, now, you must be dreadful tired." Then,
sitting down to loosen her hood, she added with a sigh, "I stayed down
there so long as I could, till I saw 'twasn't no good, so I comed away
home and left 'em. 'Tis best way, I b'lieve."

"I knew 'twas no good your going," said Adam hopelessly. "I saw before
I left 'em what they'd made up their minds to."

"Well, perhaps there's a little excuse this time," said Joan, not
willing to blame those who were so dear to her; "but, Adam," she broke
out, while her face bespoke her keen appreciation of his superiority,
"why can't th' others be like you, awh, my dear? How different things
'ud be if they only was!"

Adam shook his head. "Oh, don't wish 'em like me," he said. "I often
wish I could take my pleasure in the same things and in the same way
that they do: I should be much happier, I b'lieve."

"No, now, don't 'ee say that."

"Why, what good has it done that I'm otherwise?"

"Why, ever so much--more than you'll ever know, by a good bit. I
needn't go no further than my awnself to tell 'ee that. P'r'aps you
mayn't think it, but I've bin kep' fra doin' ever so many things by the
thought o' 'What'll Adam say?' and with the glass in my hand I've set
it down untasted, thinkin' to myself, 'Now you'm actin' agen Adam's
wish, you knaw.'"

Adam smiled as he gave her a little shake of the hand.

"That's