editerranean. All the
time, Sebastian never again spoke to us. The passengers, indeed,
held aloof from the solitary, gloomy old man, who strode along the
quarter-deck with his long, slow stride, absorbed in his own thoughts,
and intent only on avoiding Hilda and myself. His mood was unsociable.
As for Hilda, her helpful, winning ways made her a favourite with all
the women, as her pretty face did with all the men. For the first
time in his life, Sebastian seemed to be aware that he was shunned. He
retired more and more within himself for company; his keen eye began to
lose in some degree its extraordinary fire, his expression to forget
its magnetic attractiveness. Indeed, it was only young men of scientific
tastes that Sebastian could ever attract. Among them, his eager zeal,
his single-minded devotion to the cause of science, awoke always a
responsive chord which vibrated powerfully.

Day after day passed, and we steamed through the Straits and neared the
Channel. Our thoughts began to assume a home complexion. Everybody was
full of schemes as to what he would do when he reached England. Old
Bradshaws were overhauled and trains looked out, on the supposition that
we would get in by such an hour on Tuesday. We were steaming along the
French coast, off the western promontory of Brittany. The evening was
fine, and though, of course, less warm than we had experienced of late,
yet pleasant and summer-like. We watched the distant cliffs of the
Finistere mainland and the numerous little islands that lie off the
shore, all basking in the unreal glow of a deep red sunset. The first
officer was in charge, a very cock-sure and careless young man, handsome
and dark-haired; the sort of young man who thought more of creating an
impression upon the minds of the lady passengers than of the duties of
his position.

"Aren't you going down to your berth?" I asked of Hilda, about half-past
ten that night; "the air is so much colder here than you have been
feeling it of late, that I'm afraid of your chilling yourself."

She looked up at me with a smile, and drew her little fluffy, white
woollen wrap closer about her shoulders. "Am I so very valuable to you,
then?" she asked--for I suppose my glance had been a trifle too tender
for a mere acquaintance's. "No, thank you, Hubert; I don't think I'll
go down, and, if you're wise, you won't go down either. I distrust this
first officer. He's a careless navigator, and to-night his head's
too f