nceive, unless Pye had gagged him. But in any case it appeared that
Holgate also could keep his own counsel and hold his tongue. That he
could speak I had yet to realise, as the astonishing narrative I am now
approaching demonstrates.

It was the evening of our fifth day out, and the long swell of the
Atlantic was washing on our port side, so that the _Sea Queen_ heeled
over and dipped her snout as she ran. I had misgivings for my late
patient, whom I had not seen for the last thirty-six hours, although
she had made an appearance on the hurricane deck in a chair.

Holgate asked me to his cabin with his customary urbanity, saying that
he wanted a few words with me. Once the door was shut he settled down
on his bunk and lit a cigar.

"Help yourself, doctor," he said.

I declined and remained standing, for I was anxious to get away. He
looked at me steadily out of his dark eyes.

"Do you know where we're going, doctor?" he asked.

"No," said I, "but I should be glad to."

"I've just discovered," he replied; "Buenos Ayres."

I told him that I was glad to hear it, as we should run into better
weather.

"I couldn't just make up my mind," he went on, "till to-day. But it's
pretty plain now, though the old man has not said so. Any fool can see
it with the way we're shaping." He puffed for a moment or two and then
resumed: "I've been thinking over things a bit, and, if your theory is
correct, Mr. Morland is to marry the lady at Buenos Ayres and probably
make his home there, or, it may be, in some other part of America. A
capital place for losing identity is the States."

I said that it was quite probable.

"But as the yacht's chartered for a year," pursued Holgate evenly, "the
odds are that there's to be cruising off and on, may be up the west
coast of America, may be the South Seas, or may be Japan. There's a
goodly cruise before us, doctor."

"Well, it will be tolerable for us," I answered.

"Just so," he replied, "only tolerable--not eighteen carat, which seems
a pity."

"Shall we strike for higher wages?" I asked drily.

"I've been thinking over what you said, doctor," said the third
officer, taking no heed of this, "and it's gone home pretty deep.
Prince Frederic has cut himself adrift from his past--there's no
getting behind that. The Emperor has thrown him up, and there's no one
outside a penny-a-liner cares two pinches for him or what becomes of
him. He's done with. The Chancelleries of Europe won't wa