had to make upon the subject. "This is talk!" he
ejaculated once with a laugh.

Hill, against the combined attack of Jarrick and myself, was maintaining
the argument. "There is no such thing as instinctive bravery," he
affirmed, for the fifth time at least, "amongst intelligent men. Every
one of us is naturally a coward. Of course we are. The more imagination
we've got the more we can realize how pleasant life is, after all, and
how rotten the adjuncts of sudden death. It's reason that does the
trick--reason and tradition. Do you know of any one who is brave when
he is alone--except, that is, when it is a case of self-preservation?
No! Of course not. Did you ever hear of any one choosing to go along
a dangerous road or to ford a dangerous river unless he had to--that
is, any one of our class, any man of education or imagination? It's
the greater fear of being thought afraid that makes us brave. Take a
lawyer in a shipwreck--take myself! Don't you suppose he's frightened?
Naturally he is, horribly frightened. It's his reason, his mind, that
after a while gets the better of his poor pipe-stem legs and makes them
keep pace with the sea-legs about them."

"It's condition," said Jarrick doggedly--"condition entirely. All has to
do with your liver and digestion. I know; I fox-hunt, and when I was
younger--yes, leave my waist alone!--I rode jumping races. When you're
fit there isn't a horse alive that bothers you, or a fence, for that
matter, or a bit of water."

"Ever try standing on a ship's deck, in the dark, knowing you're going
to drown in about twenty minutes?" asked Hill.

Hardy leaned forward to strike a match for his cigarette. "I don't agree
with you," he said.

"Well, but--" began Hill.

"Neither of you."

"Oh, of course, you're outside the argument. You lead an adventurous
life. You keep in condition for danger. It isn't fair."

"No." Hardy lit his cigarette and inhaled a puff thoughtfully. "You
don't understand. All you have to say does have some bearing upon
things, but, when you get down to brass tacks, it's instinct--at the
last gasp, it's instinct. You can't get away from it. Look at the
difference between a thoroughbred and a cold-blooded horse! There you
are! That's true. It's the fashion now to discount instinct, I know;
well--but you can't get away from it. I've thought about the thing--a
lot. Men are brave against their better reason, against their
conscience. It's a mixed-up thing. It's confus