a possible
God; just as every American citizen is a possible President! What is
of moment at present, however, is the fact that the young man's first
inconsistency of word with creed dates at the time his self-control
forsook him on board the midnight steamer.

In that thanksgiving prayer his passion passed away. After unnaturally
distending every sense and faculty, it suddenly ebbed, leaving the
consciousness of an irritating vacuum. Something must be done to fill
it. One drawback to crime seems to be its insufficiency to itself. It
creates a craving which needs must be fed. The demon returns,
demanding a fresh task; and he returns again forever!

Helwyse, therefore, plunged into the midst of the uproar consequent on
the collision, and tried to absorb the common excitement,--to identify
himself with other men; no longer to be apart from them and above
them. But he did not succeed. It seemed as though he would never feel
excitement or warmth in the blood again! His deed was a dead weight
that steadied him spite of his best efforts. His aim has hitherto
been, not to forget himself;--let him forget himself now if he can!

The uproar was over all too soon, and the steamer once more under way.

"No serious harm done, sir!--no harm done!" observed a spruce steward.

"No; no harm."

"By the way, sir,--thought I heard some one sing out aft just afore we
struck. You heard it, sir? Thought some fellow'd gone overboard, may
be!"

"I saw no one," answered Helwyse; nor had he. But he turned away,
fearing that the brisk steward might read prevarication in his face.
No, he had seen no one; but he had heard a plunge! He revolted from
the memory of it, but it would not be banished. Had there been a soul
in the body before it made that dive? even for a few minutes
afterwards? He would have given much to know! In theorizing about
crime, he had always maintained the motive to be all in all. But now,
though unable to controvert the logic of his assertion, he felt it
told less than the whole truth. He recognised a divine conservative
virtue in straws, and grasped at the smallest! Through the long
torture of self-questioning and indecision, let us not follow him.
Uncertainty is a ghastly element in such a matter.

He groped his way back to the taffrail. Why, he knew not; but there he
was at last. He might safely soliloquize now; there was no listener.
He might light a cigar and smoke; no one would see him. Yet, no; for,
on second t