man loose, and we'll make him show us
his bigger boat."

It was an unfortunate suggestion; for the Captain, who had listened with
an insane chuckle, and allowed himself to be taken lightly by the
hand, again caught sight of the prostrate fisherman. A yell broke from
him--his former frenzy returned. With a cry of "Treachery! all hands on
deck!" he threw off Hurlstone and rushed into the water.

"Help!" cried the young man, springing after him, "It is madness. He
will kill himself!"

The water was shallow, they were both wading, they both reached the boat
at the same time; but the Captain had scrambled into the stern-sheets,
and cast loose the painter, as Hurlstone once more threw his arms about
him.

"Hear me, Captain. I'll go with you. Listen! I know the way through the
fog. You understand: I'll pilot you!" He was desperate, but no longer
from despair of himself, but of another; he was reckless, but only to
save a madman from the fate that but a moment before he had chosen for
himself.

Captain Bunker seemed to soften. "Get in for'ard," he said, in a lower
voice. Hurlstone released his grasp, but still clinging to the boat,
which had now drifted into deeper water, made his way to the bow. He was
climbing over the thwarts when a horrified cry from the fisherman ashore
and a jarring laugh in his ear caused him to look up. But not in time to
save himself! The treacherous maniac had suddenly launched a blow from
an oar at the unsuspecting man as he was rising to his knees. It
missed his head, but fell upon his arm and shoulder, precipitating him
violently into the sea.

Stunned by the shock, he sank at first like lead to the bottom. When he
rose again, with his returning consciousness, he could see that Captain
Bunker had already hoisted sail, and, with the assistance of his oars,
was rapidly increasing his distance from the shore. With his returning
desperation he turned to strike out after him, but groaned as his one
arm sank powerless to his side. A few strokes showed him the madness
of the attempt; a few more convinced him that he himself could barely
return to the shore. A sudden torpor had taken possession of him--he was
sinking!

With this thought, a struggle for life began; and this man who had just
now sought death so eagerly--with no feeling of inconsistency, with
no physical fear of dissolution, with only a vague, blind, dogged
determination to live for some unknown purpose--a determination as vague
and