n him than appears on the surface. Did
he then make no mention of the nature of his own business?"

"None whatever. To say truth, that mysteriousness or secrecy is the
only point about the old fellow's character that I don't like," said
Leather, with a frown of virtuous disapproval. "`All fair and
above-board,' that's my motto. Speak out your mind and fear nothing!"

At these noble sentiments a faint smile, if we may say so, hovered
somewhere in the recesses of Charlie Brooke's interior, but not the
quiver of a muscle disturbed the solemnity of his face.

"The secrecy of his nature seems even to have infected that skipper
with--or rather by--whom he was wrecked," continued Leather, "for when I
asked him yesterday about the old gentleman, he became suddenly silent,
and when I pressed him, he made me a rigmarole speech something like
this: `Young man, I make it a rule to know nothin' whatever about my
passengers. As I said only two days past to my missus: "Maggie," says
I, "it's of no use your axin' me. My passengers' business is _their_
business, and my business is mine. All I've got to do is to sail my
ship, an' see to it that I land my passengers in safety."'

"`You made a pretty mess of your business, then, the last trip,' said I,
for I was bothered with his obvious determination not to give me any
information.

"`Right you are, young man,' said he, `and it would have been a still
prettier mess if your friend Mr Brooke hadn't come off wi' that there
line!'

"I laughed at this and recovered my temper, but I could pump nothing
more out of him. Perhaps there was nothing to pump.--But now tell me,
how is it--for I cannot understand--that you refused all offers to
yourself? You are as much `out of work' just now as I am."

"That's true, Shank, and really I feel almost as incapable of giving you
an answer as Captain Stride himself. You see, during our conversation
Mr Crossley attributed mean--at all events wrong--motives to me, and
somehow I felt that I _could_ not accept any favour at his hands just
then. I suspect I was too hasty. I fear it was false pride--"

"Ha! ha!" laughed Leather; "`pride!' I wonder in what secret chamber of
your big corpus your pride lies."

"Well, I don't know. It must be pretty deep. Perhaps it is engrained,
and cannot be easily recognised."

"That last is true, Charlie. Assuredly it can't be recognised, for it's
not there at all. Why, if you had been born with a scrap