shall come some day and read my memor querela. Ha, he shall have Latin
too!' And he added: terque quaterque beati Queis ante ora patrum.

He turned again to his uneasy pacing, but now with an irrational and
supporting sense of duty done. He had dug his grave that morning; now he
had carved his epitaph; the folds of the toga were composed, why should
he delay the insignificant trifle that remained to do? He paused and
looked long in the face of the sleeping Huish, drinking disenchantment
and distaste of life. He nauseated himself with that vile countenance.
Could the thing continue? What bound him now? Had he no rights?--only
the obligation to go on, without discharge or furlough, bearing the
unbearable? Ich trage unertragliches, the quotation rose in his mind; he
repeated the whole piece, one of the most perfect of the most perfect of
poets; and a phrase struck him like a blow: Du, stolzes Herz, A hast
es ja gewolit. Where was the pride of his heart? And he raged against
himself, as a man bites on a sore tooth, in a heady sensuality of scorn.
'I have no pride, I have no heart, no manhood,' he thought, 'or why
should I prolong a life more shameful than the gallows? Or why should I
have fallen to it? No pride, no capacity, no force. Not even a bandit!
and to be starving here with worse than banditti--with this trivial
hell-hound!' His rage against his comrade rose and flooded him, and he
shook a trembling fist at the sleeper.

A swift step was audible. The captain appeared upon the threshold of the
cell, panting and flushed, and with a foolish face of happiness. In his
arms he carried a loaf of bread and bottles of beer; the pockets of his
coat were bulging with cigars.

He rolled his treasures on the floor, grasped Herrick by both hands, and
crowed with laughter.

'Broach the beer!' he shouted. 'Broach the beer, and glory hallelujah!'

'Beer?' repeated Huish, struggling to his feet. 'Beer it is!' cried
Davis. 'Beer and plenty of it. Any number of persons can use it (like
Lyon's tooth-tablet) with perfect propriety and neatness. Who's to
officiate?'

'Leave me alone for that,' said the clerk. He knocked the necks off with
a lump of coral, and each drank in succession from the shell.

'Have a weed,' said Davis. 'It's all in the bill.'

'What is up?' asked Herrick.

The captain fell suddenly grave. 'I'm coming to that,' said he. 'I want
to speak with Herrick here. You, Hay--or Huish, or whatever your name
is--yo