dst general
consternation.

"I would turn my back on you only I am thinking of these poor devils
here," growled Lingard, furiously. "Did you ask them how they feel about
it?"

"I ask no one," spluttered Mr. Travers. "Everybody here depends on my
judgment."

"I am sorry for them then," pronounced Lingard with sudden deliberation,
and leaning forward with his arms crossed on his breast.

At this Mr. Travers positively jumped, and forgot himself so far as to
shout:

"You are an impudent fellow. I have nothing more to say to you."

D'Alcacer, after muttering to himself, "This is getting serious," made a
movement, and could not believe his ears when he heard Mrs. Travers say
rapidly with a kind of fervour:

"Don't go, pray; don't stop them. Oh! This is truth--this is
anger--something real at last."

D'Alcacer leaned back at once against the rail.

Then Mr. Travers, with one arm extended, repeated very loudly:

"Nothing more to say. Leave my ship at once!"

And directly the black dog, stretched at his wife's feet, muzzle on
paws and blinking yellow eyes, growled discontentedly at the noise. Mrs.
Travers laughed a faint, bright laugh, that seemed to escape, to glide,
to dart between her white teeth. D'Alcacer, concealing his amazement,
was looking down at her gravely: and after a slight gasp, she said with
little bursts of merriment between every few words:

"No, but this is--such--such a fresh experience for me to hear--to see
something--genuine and human. Ah! ah! one would think they had waited
all their lives for this opportunity--ah! ah! ah! All their lives--for
this! ah! ah! ah!"

These strange words struck d'Alcacer as perfectly just, as throwing an
unexpected light. But after a smile, he said, seriously:

"This reality may go too far. A man who looks so picturesque is capable
of anything. Allow me--" And he left her side, moving toward Lingard,
loose-limbed and gaunt, yet having in his whole bearing, in his walk, in
every leisurely movement, an air of distinction and ceremony.

Lingard spun round with aggressive mien to the light touch on his
shoulder, but as soon as he took his eyes off Mr. Travers, his anger
fell, seemed to sink without a sound at his feet like a rejected
garment.

"Pardon me," said d'Alcacer, composedly. The slight wave of his hand was
hardly more than an indication, the beginning of a conciliating gesture.
"Pardon me; but this is a matter requiring perfect confidence on both
si