and moved away, rejecting Percy's offered arm
with some impatience.

The weather was beautiful, and Percy stood for some time watching the
receding shore, and scanning, with his wonted keen gaze, the various
countenances of the passengers. He took a book from his pocket, but did
not read long; he looked out on the sea, and muttered to himself,
'What folly now? Why won't that name let one rest? Besides, he looked
desperately ill; I must go and see if they have made him comfortable in
that dog-hole below.'

Percy shook himself as if he was out of humour; and, with his hands in
his pockets, and a sauntering step, entered the cabin. He found Arthur
there alone, his head resting on his arms, and his frame shaken by the
suppressed cough.

'You seem to have a terrible cold. This is a bad time to be crossing.
How long have you been abroad?'

'Ten days.--How came you here?'

'I am going to Worthbourne. How are all your folks!'

'All well;' and coughing again, he filled up a tumbler with spirits and
water, and drank it off, while Percy exclaimed:

'Are you running crazy, to be feeding such a cough in this way?'

'The only thing to warm one,' said he, shuddering from head to foot.

'Yes, warm you properly into a nice little fever and inflammation. Why,
what a hand you have! And your pulse! Here, lie down at once,' as he
formed a couch with the help of a wrapper and bag. Arthur passively
accepted his care; but as the chill again crept through his veins, he
stretched out his hand for the cordial.

'I won't have it done!' thundered Percy. 'I will not look on and see you
killing yourself!'

'I wish I could,' murmured Arthur, letting his hand drop, as if unequal
to contest the point.

The conviction suddenly flashed on Percy that he was the victim! 'You
have got yourself into a scrape' he said.

'Scrape! I tell you I am ruined! undone!' exclaimed Arthur, rearing
himself up, as he burst out into passionate imprecations on Mark
Gardner, cut short by coughing.

'You! with your wife and little children entirely depending on you! You
have allowed that scoundrel, whose baseness you knew, to dupe you to
your own destruction!' said Percy, with slowness and severity.

Too ill and wretched to resent the reproach, Arthur sank his head with a
heavy groan, that almost disarmed Percy; then looking up, with sparkling
eyes, he exclaimed, 'No! I did not know his baseness; I thought him a
careless scape-grace, but not much worse than