!"

His big, red, generous fist described a large and inconclusive gesture
of violence.

"Well," he growled finally, "grant all this--which I don't, not for one
little minute--what do you mean to do?"

"I don't mind telling you," said Whitaker: "I don't know. Wish I did. Up
to within the last few minutes I fully intended to cut the knot with my
own knife. It's not reasonable to ask a man to sit still and watch
himself go slowly to pieces...."

"No," said Stark, sitting down. "No," he admitted grudgingly; "but I'm
glad you've given that up, because I'm right and all these fool doctors
are wrong. You'll see. But...." He couldn't help being curious. "But
why?"

"Well," Whitaker considered slowly--"it's Alice Carstairs. You know what
she's done."

"You don't mean to say you're going--that you think there's any
consideration due her?"

"Don't you?" Whitaker smiled wearily. "Perhaps you're right. I don't
know. We won't discuss the ethics of the situation; right or wrong, I
don't mean to shadow whatever happiness she has in store for her by
ostentatiously snuffing myself out just now."

Peter gulped and succeeded in saying nothing. But he stared.

"At the same time," Whitaker resumed, "I don't think I can stand this
sort of thing. I can't go round with my flesh creeping to hear the
whisperings behind my back. I've got to do something--get away
somewhere."

Abrupt inspiration sparked the imagination of Peter Stark, and he began
to sputter with enthusiasm.

"I've got it!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "A sea trip's just the
thing. Chances are, it'll turn the trick--bring you round all right-O,
and prove what asses doctors are. What d'you say? Are you game for a
sail? The _Adventuress_ is laid up at New Bedford now, but I can have
her put in commission within three days. We'll do it--we'll just light
out, old man! We'll try that South Seas thing we've talked about so
long. What d'you say?"

A warm light glowed in Whitaker's sunken eyes. He nodded slowly.

III

"MRS. MORTEN"

It was three in the morning before Peter Stark, having to the best of
his endurance and judgment tired Whitaker out with talking, took his hat
and his departure from Whitaker's bachelor rooms. He went with little
misgiving; Whitaker was so weary that he would have to sleep before he
could think and again realize his terror; and everything was arranged.
Peter had telegraphed to have the _Adventuress_ rushed into commission;
they