statement of the last
sufferings of those who had escaped in the gig, and there was nothing
in it that I did not now expect. They had buried Ready first--then my
darling--then her step-father. The rest expected to follow fast enough.
It was all written plainly, on a sheet of the log-book, in different
trembling hands. Captain Harris had gone next; and two had been
discovered dead.

How long I studied that bit of crumpled paper, with the salt spray
still sparkling on it faintly, God alone knows. All at once a peal of
nightmare laughter rattled through the cabin. My deliverers started
back. The laugh was mine.

CHAPTER VI. THE SOLE SURVIVOR

A few weeks later I landed in England, I, who no longer desired to set
foot on any land again.

At nine-and-twenty I was gaunt and gray; my nerves were shattered, my
heart was broken; and my face showed it without let or hindrance from
the spirit that was broken too. Pride, will, courage, and endurance, all
these had expired in my long and lonely battle with the sea. They had
kept me alive-for this. And now they left me naked to mine enemies.

For every hand seemed raised against me, though in reality it was the
hand of fellowship that the world stretched out, and the other was the
reading of a jaundiced eye. I could not help it: there was a poison in
my veins that made me all ingratitude and perversity. The world welcomed
me back, and I returned the compliment by sulking like the recaptured
runaway I was at heart. The world showed a sudden interest in me; so I
took no further interest in the world, but, on the contrary, resented
its attentions with unreasonable warmth and obduracy; and my would-be
friends I regarded as my very worst enemies. The majority, I feel sure,
meant but well and kindly by the poor survivor. But the survivor could
not forget that his name was still in the newspapers, nor blink the fact
that he was an unworthy hero of the passing hour. And he suffered
enough from brazenly meddlesome and self-seeking folk, from impudent and
inquisitive intruders, to justify some suspicion of old acquaintances
suddenly styling themselves old friends, and of distant connections
newly and unduly eager to claim relationship. Many I misjudged, and have
long known it. On the whole, however, I wonder at that attitude of mine
as little as I approve of it.

If I had distinguished myself in any other way, it would have been a
different thing. It was the fussy, sentimental,