d then was civil invariably, civil with the respect which was
Dr. Harrison's highest degree of civility and which probably in this
instance was true and heartfelt; but he was cool, after his slight gay
surface manner, and even when speaking kept at a distance. For the
rest, it is notable, even in so small a space as the walls of a steamer
shut in, how far apart people can be that have no wish to be near. Days
passed that saw at the utmost only a bow exchanged between these two;
many days that heard but one or two words. Mr. Linden's own plans and
occupations, the arrangement of his time, helped to further the
doctor's wish. There was many an hour when Dr. Harrison would not have
found him if he had tried, but when they were really together the
non-intercourse was the doctor's fault. For all that had been, Mr.
Linden was still his friend,--he realized more and more every day the
value of the prize for which Dr. Harrison had played and lost; and pity
had made forgiveness easy. He was ready for all their old kindly
intercourse, but seeing the doctor shunned him there was nothing to do
but follow the lead. Sometimes indeed they came together for a few
minutes--were thrown so--in a way that was worse than hours of talk.

The Vulcan had made about half her passage, and a fair, fresh morning
had brought most of the passengers on deck. Mr. Linden was not there,
but the rest were grouped and watching the approach of a homeward bound
steamer; when as she neared them Mr. Linden too came on deck. It was to
talk with the Captain however, not the passengers--or to consult with
him, for the two stood together speaking and smiling. "You can try,"
Dr. Harrison heard the Captain say; and then he lifted his trumpet and
hailed--the other Captain responding. Still the steamer came on, nearer
and nearer,--still the two on the deck of the Vulcan stood side by
side; till at a certain point, just where the vessels were at the
nearest, Captain Cyclops gave his companion a little signal nod. And
Mr. Linden stepping forward a pace or two, lent the whole power of his
skill and strength to send a despatch on board the Polar Bear. The
little packet sped from his hand, spinning through the air like a dark
speck. Not a person spoke or moved--Would it reach?--would it
fail?--until the packet, just clearing the guards, fell safe on the
deck of the other vessel, was picked up by her Captain and proclaimed
through the speaking trumpet. Slightly raising his