; "but I see no
present necessity for that, nor for any trouble whatever, if you will
kindly tell me WHAT I am to say."

The young man's eyes fell.

"I DID try to conceal myself in the hold," he said bluntly. "I intended
to remain there hidden while the ship was at Mazatlan. I did not know
until now that the vessel had changed her course."

"And how did you believe your absence would be accounted for?" asked the
Senor blandly.

"I thought it would be supposed that I had fallen overboard before we
entered Mazatlan."

"So that anybody seeking you there would not find you, and you would be
believed to be dead?"

"Yes." He raised his eyes quickly to Senor Perkins again. "I am neither
a thief nor a murderer," he said almost savagely, "but I do not choose
to be recognized by any one who knows me on this side of the grave."

Senor Perkins' eyes sought his, and for an instant seemed to burn
through the singular, fatuous mist that veiled them.

"My friend," he said cheerfully, after a moment's pause, "you have just
had a providential escape. I repeat it--a most providential escape.
Indeed, if I were inclined to prophesy, I would say you were a man
reserved for some special good fortune."

The prisoner stared at him with angry amazement.

"You are a confirmed somnambulist. Excuse me," continued the Senor, with
a soft, deprecating gesture; "you are, of course, unaware of it--most
victims of that singular complaint are, or at least fail to recognize
the extent of their aberration. In your case it has only been indicated
by a profound melancholy and natural shunning of society. In a paroxysm
of your disorder, you rise in the night, fully dress yourself, and glide
as unconsciously along the deck in pursuance of some vague fancy. You
pass the honest but energetic sailor who has just left us, who thinks
you are a phantom, and fails to give the alarm; you are precipitated
by a lurch of the ship through an open hatchway: the shock renders you
insensible until you are discovered and restored."

"And who will believe this pretty story?" said the young man scornfully.

"The honest sailor who picked you up, who has related it in his own
picturesque tongue to ME, who will in turn interpret it to the captain
and the other passengers," replied Senor Perkins blandly.

"And what of the two mates who were here?" said the prisoner
hesitatingly.

"They are two competent officers, who are quite content to carry out
the orders of the