superficial attention, and now that I
knew of this catastrophe, which had obviously ruined his life, I
promised myself that when I saw him again I would take more careful note
of him. It is very curious to observe the differences of emotional
response that you find in different people. Some can go through terrific
battles, the fear of imminent death and unimaginable horrors, and
preserve their soul unscathed, while with others the trembling of the
moon on a solitary sea or the song of a bird in a thicket will cause a
convulsion great enough to transform their entire being. Is it due to
strength or weakness, want of imagination or instability of character? I
do not know. When I called up in my fancy that scene of shipwreck, with
the shrieks of the drowning and the terror, and then later, the ordeal
of the enquiry, the bitter grief of those who sorrowed for the lost, and
the harsh things he must have read of himself in the papers, the shame
and the disgrace, it came to me with a shock to remember that Captain
Butler had talked with the frank obscenity of a schoolboy of the
Hawaiian girls and of Ewelei, the Red Light district, and of his
successful adventures. He laughed readily, and one would have thought he
could never laugh again. I remembered his shining, white teeth; they
were his best feature. He began to interest me, and thinking of him and
of his gay insouciance I forgot the particular story, to hear which I
was to see him again. I wanted to see him rather to find out if I could
a little more what sort of man he was.

Winter made the necessary arrangements and after dinner we went down to
the water front. The ship's boat was waiting for us and we rowed out.
The schooner was anchored some way across the harbour, not far from the
breakwater. We came alongside, and I heard the sound of a ukalele. We
clambered up the ladder.

"I guess he's in the cabin," said Winter, leading the way.

It was a small cabin, bedraggled and dirty, with a table against one
side and a broad bench all round upon which slept, I supposed, such
passengers as were ill-advised enough to travel in such a ship. A
petroleum lamp gave a dim light. The ukalele was being played by a
native girl and Butler was lolling on the seat, half lying, with his
head on her shoulder and an arm round her waist.

"Don't let us disturb you, Captain," said Winter, facetiously.

"Come right in," said Butler, getting up and shaking hands with us.
"What'll you have