s bounding over the planks, and the pattering of lighter feet,
sounded in my ears; and next moment a stream of passengers, male and
female, came pouring up the sides of the wheel-house.

"That's the gentleman--that's him!" cried a voice.

In another instant the excited throng was around me, several inquiring
at once--

"Who's overboard? Who? Where?"

Of course I saw that these interrogatories were meant for me. I saw,
too, that an answer was necessary to allay their ludicrous alarm.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" I said, "there is no one overboard that I am
aware of. Why do you ask _me_?"

"Hilloa, Mister!" cried the cause of all this confusion, "didn't you
tell me--?"

"I told you nothing."

"But didn't I ask you if thar wan't some one overboard?"

"You did."

"And you said in reply--"

"I said nothing in reply."

"Darned if you didn't! you said `Thar she is!' or, `It was she!' or
something o' that sort."

I turned towards the speaker, who I perceived was rather losing credit
with his auditory.

"Mister!" said I, imitating his tone, "it is evident you have never
heard of the man who grew immensely rich by minding his own business."

My remark settled the affair. It was received by a yell of laughter,
that completely discomfited my meddling antagonist, who, after some
little swaggering and loud talk, at length went below to the "bar" to
soothe his mortified spirit with a "gin-sling."

The others dropped away one by one, and dispersed themselves through the
various cabins and saloons; and I found myself once more the sole
occupant of the hurricane-deck.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

JEALOUSY.

Have you ever loved in humble life? some fair young girl, whose lot was
among the lowly, but whose brilliant beauty in your eyes annihilated all
social inequalities? Love levels all distinctions, is an adage old as
the hills. It brings down the proud heart, and teaches condescension to
the haughty spirit; but its tendency is to elevate, to ennoble. It does
not make a peasant of the prince, but a prince of the peasant.

Behold the object of your adoration engaged in her ordinary duties! She
fetches a jar of water from the well. Barefoot she treads the
well-known path. Those nude pellucid feet are fairer in their nakedness
than the most delicate _chaussure_ of silk and satin. The wreaths and
pearl circlets, the pins of gold and drupes of coral, the costliest
_coiffures_ of the dress circle,--all seem pla