elves round the obsequies of
day. 'No one can like me,' he said.

'You are wrong there,' said the other, 'as a man usually is about
himself. You are attractive, very attractive.'

'It is not me,' said Herrick; 'no one can like me. If you knew how I
despised myself--and why!' His voice rang out in the quiet graveyard.

'I knew that you despised yourself,' said Attwater. 'I saw the blood
come into your face today when you remembered Oxford. And I could have
blushed for you myself, to see a man, a gentleman, with these two vulgar
wolves.'

Herrick faced him with a thrill. 'Wolves?' he repeated.

'I said wolves and vulgar wolves,' said Attwater. 'Do you know that
today, when I came on board, I trembled?'

'You concealed it well,' stammered Herrick.

'A habit of mine,' said Attwater. 'But I was afraid, for all that: I was
afraid of the two wolves.' He raised his hand slowly. 'And now, Hay, you
poor lost puppy, what do you do with the two wolves?'

'What do I do? I don't do anything,' said Herrick. 'There is nothing
wrong; all is above board; Captain Brown is a good soul; he is a... he
is...' The phantom voice of Davis called in his ear: 'There's going to
be a funeral' and the sweat burst forth and streamed on his brow. 'He
is a family man,' he resumed again, swallowing; 'he has children at
home--and a wife.'

'And a very nice man?' said Attwater. 'And so is Mr Whish, no doubt?'

'I won't go so far as that,' said Herrick. 'I do not like Huish. And
yet... he has his merits too.'

'And, in short, take them for all in all, as good a ship's company as
one would ask?' said Attwater.

'O yes,' said Herrick, 'quite.'

'So then we approach the other point of why you despise yourself?' said
Attwater.

'Do we not all despise ourselves?' cried Herrick. 'Do not you?'

'Oh, I say I do. But do I?' said Attwater. 'One thing I know at least:
I never gave a cry like yours. Hay! it came from a bad conscience! Ah,
man, that poor diving dress of self-conceit is sadly tattered! Today,
now, while the sun sets, and here in this burying place of brown
innocents, fall on your knees and cast your sins and sorrows on the
Redeemer. Hay--'

'Not Hay!' interrupted the other, strangling. 'Don't call me that! I
mean... For God's sake, can't you see I'm on the rack?'

'I see it, I know it, I put and keep you there, my fingers are on the
screws!' said Attwater. 'Please God, I will bring a penitent this
night before His throne. Come, come