ways, was burning
between the fingers of his right hand.

The cat spat, the dog barked. The piping sound drilled Frederick's ears
like needle pricks. Ingigerd laughed and kissed the little yelper.

Wilhelm began a conversation by telling of the tremendous amount of work
Mr. Rinck had to do between Cuxhaven and New York.

"Just take a look here, Doctor von Kammacher," he said, opening a door
nearby, through which one could look into a deep, square pit filled half
way up to the top with thousands of packages of all sizes. "Mr. Rinck has
to arrange all of these."

"Exclusive of the letters," Mr. Rinck supplemented phlegmatically.

"Theridium triste," thought Frederick. He seemed to himself like an ant
trying head over heels to escape the spell of the little spider, whose
golden cobweb in long, open strands was luring on its victims.

"That Rinck," said Wilhelm, as they resumed their promenading, "is a
peculiar sort of chap. It is worth the while to get to know him. Twenty
years ago he suffered hard luck from a woman of the same type as little
Miss Hahlstroem. Men should never marry women of that type. Ever since, he
has been indifferently facing every sort of death on all the waters of
the globe, not to mention an attempt at suicide. You ought to hear him
talk. It is very difficult to get him to do it, because he doesn't drink.
You can't succeed until you have been on four or five trips with him.
People speak a great deal of fatalism, but to most of them the idea is
merely a paper idea. To Rinck it is not a paper idea."

The life on deck kept assuming a more and more unconcerned, mundane
aspect. Frederick was astonished to see so many persons from Berlin whom
he knew by sight. Professor Toussaint introduced himself, and led
Frederick to his wife, who was lying stretched out in a steamer chair.
Their attempt at what is called conversation resulted in a few sickly
sprouts.

"I am making this trip at the invitation of an American friend,"
Toussaint explained somewhat condescendingly, and mentioned the name of a
well-known millionaire. "Even if I receive orders over there, I will not
allow myself to be persuaded into making America my home. Interest in art
should be elevated--" The pale, aristocratic man with the care-worn
expression went on to expatiate upon his hopes and troubles, while his
wife, who was still beautiful, looked on with a blase expression of
irony. Probably without being conscious of it, Professor Tou