l thing would not have happened.
The need for concealment was now past, however; so, rallying his
faculties, he called all hands to group themselves round him, as he had
something to say to them.

"My lads," he began, "I believe that you all profoundly regret the awful
thing that has just happened; for Mr Purchas was a most kind and
considerate officer to every one of you. But none of you can regret his
terrible end so much as I do; for I feel that I am to some extent to
blame for it. A certain wise man has said, `Of the dead speak nothing
but good;' and it is well to carry out this precept, so far as is
possible. There are occasions, however, when the truth--the whole
truth--must be told, even though it reflect discredit upon those who are
gone; and this is one of them. I am sorry to be obliged to tell you
that what really ailed Mr Purchas was--drunkenness! Very little more
than a week had elapsed after Captain Potter's death when I discovered
in Mr Purchas a tendency to take rather too much rum. I spoke to him
about it, with the result that he promised to be more moderate in his
potations. But he did not keep his promise, and upon one occasion, at
least, he was so thoroughly intoxicated that he slept through his entire
watch, stretched out upon a hencoop."

"Ay, ay, sir; that's gospel truth. I remember it perfectly," murmured
two or three of the men, interrupting.

"Of course," assented Leslie, "you could not have avoided noticing it.
It was after that occurrence that I remonstrated with him; and for a few
days thereafter he was better. Then he began again, finally giving way
altogether, with the melancholy result that you have all witnessed. I
knew how injurious to his interests it would be, and how seriously it
would weaken discipline if you men should once come to understand that
your skipper was a drunkard; so I let it be understood among you that
Mr Purchas was confined to his cabin through a slight illness; while,
as a matter of fact, he was all the time lying there in a drunken
stupor.

"_Now_, when it is too late, I feel that I committed an error of
judgment in attempting to conceal from you all the actual facts.
Instead of being so keenly anxious to shield him that I could think of
nothing else, I ought to have anticipated the possibility that upon his
return to consciousness he might be tempted to do something foolish;
and, anticipating this, I ought to have told off a man from each watch
to s