ing out for dinner. Lying in my bunk I can, without moving,
reach my books, pipes, or anything else I may want, which is one
advantage of a small apartment. My old wound began to ache a little
to-day, probably from the cold. Read "Montaigne's Essays" and nursed
myself. Harton came in in the afternoon with Doddy, the Captain's child,
and the skipper himself followed, so that I held quite a reception.

October 20 and 21.--Still cold, with a continual drizzle of rain, and
I have not been able to leave the cabin. This confinement makes me feel
weak and depressed. Goring came in to see me, but his company did not
tend to cheer me up much, as he hardly uttered a word, but contented
himself with staring at me in a peculiar and rather irritating manner.
He then got up and stole out of the cabin without saying anything. I am
beginning to suspect that the man is a lunatic. I think I mentioned that
his cabin is next to mine. The two are simply divided by a thin wooden
partition which is cracked in many places, some of the cracks being
so large that I can hardly avoid, as I lie in my bunk, observing his
motions in the adjoining room. Without any wish to play the spy, I see
him continually stooping over what appears to be a chart and working
with a pencil and compasses. I have remarked the interest he displays
in matters connected with navigation, but I am surprised that he should
take the trouble to work out the course of the ship. However, it is a
harmless amusement enough, and no doubt he verifies his results by those
of the Captain.

I wish the man did not run in my thoughts so much. I had a nightmare on
the night of the 20th, in which I thought my bunk was a coffin, that I
was laid out in it, and that Goring was endeavouring to nail up the
lid, which I was frantically pushing away. Even when I woke up, I could
hardly persuade myself that I was not in a coffin. As a medical man, I
know that a nightmare is simply a vascular derangement of the cerebral
hemispheres, and yet in my weak state I cannot shake off the morbid
impression which it produces.

October 22.--A fine day, with hardly a cloud in the sky, and a fresh
breeze from the sou'-west which wafts us gaily on our way. There has
evidently been some heavy weather near us, as there is a tremendous
swell on, and the ship lurches until the end of the fore-yard nearly
touches the water. Had a refreshing walk up and down the quarter-deck,
though I have hardly found my sea-legs y