nce his last
visit I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the
ship's rats, that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the
dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever.

The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the
heaven's sunlight: and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams
of the ship that was my prison I could have cried aloud for gladness.
The man with the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I
noticed that he came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the
captain. Neither said a word; but the first set to and examined me, and
dressed my wound as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an
odd, black look.

"Now, sir, you see for yourself," said the first: "a high fever, no
appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means."

"I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach," said the captain.

"Give me leave, sir," said Riach; "you've a good head upon your
shoulders, and a good Scots tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no
manner of excuse: I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the
forecastle."

"What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel',"
returned the captain; "but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he
is; here he shall bide."

"Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion," said the other, "I
will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too
much, to be the second officer of this old tub; and you ken very well if
I do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more."

"If ye could hold back your hand from the tin pan, Mr. Riach, I would
have no complaint to make of ye," returned the skipper; "and instead of
asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to
cool your porridge. We'll be required on deck," he added, in a sharper
note, and set one foot upon the ladder.

But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve.

"Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder----" he began.

Hoseason turned upon him with a flash.

"What's that?" he cried. "What kind of talk is that?"

"It seems it is the talk that you can understand," said Mr. Riach,
looking him steadily in the face.

"Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises," replied the captain.
"In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I'm a stiff
man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now--fie, fie!--it comes
from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say