come over to
his place and ink up the addresses."

"Well, that's a start, too," said the clerk. "I never thought of that."

"It was that yarning last night about going home that put me up to it,"
said the captain.

"Well, 'and over," said the clerk. "I'll 'ave a shy," and he retired a
little distance to the shade of a canoe.

The others remained under the _purao_. Now they would write a word or
two, now scribble it out; now they would sit biting at the pencil end
and staring seaward; now their eyes would rest on the clerk, where he
sat propped on the canoe, leering and coughing, his pencil racing glibly
on the paper.

"I can't do it," said Herrick suddenly. "I haven't got the heart."

"See here," said the captain, speaking with unwonted gravity; "it may be
hard to write, and to write lies at that; and God knows it is; but it's
the square thing. It don't cost anything to say you're well and happy,
and sorry you can't make a remittance this mail; and if you don't I'll
tell you what I think it is--I think it's about the high-water mark of
being a brute beast."

"It's easy to talk," said Herrick. "You don't seem to have written much
yourself, I notice."

"What do you bring in me for?" broke from the captain. His voice was
indeed scarce raised above a whisper, but emotion clanged in it. "What
do you know about me? If you had commanded the finest barque that ever
sailed from Portland; if you had been drunk in your berth when she
struck the breakers in Fourteen Island Group, and hadn't had the wit to
stay there and drown, but came on deck, and given drunken orders, and
lost six lives--I could understand your talking then! There," he said
more quietly, "that's my yarn, and now you know it. It's a pretty one
for the father of a family. Five men and a woman murdered. Yes, there
was a woman on board, and hadn't no business to be either. Guess I sent
her to Hell, if there is such a place. I never dared go home again; and
the wife and the little ones went to England to her father's place. I
don't know what's come to them," he added, with a bitter shrug.

"Thank you, captain," said Herrick. "I never liked you better."

They shook hands, short and hard, with eyes averted, tenderness swelling
in their bosoms.

"Now, boys! to work again at lying!" said the captain.

"I'll give my father up," returned Herrick with a writhen smile. "I'll
try my sweetheart instead for a change of evils."

And here is what he wrote:--