out in case of an emergency, but Pye somehow set
me thinking. Pye's cowardice was manifest--rampant, if one may use such
a term; yet he had ventured into the fog the night before; not only so,
but upon a deck which was filled in his eyes with horrid enemies,
prowling in search of victims. How had he achieved that spirited
action? It seemed incredible, yet I had come upon him at the foot of
the bridge stairs, and I had his explanation. What induced the timid
rabbit to venture out of his hutch upon such a night and in such
circumstances? Frankly the riddle beat me, and I should have worried
over it had it not been for other matters that seemed more immediately
important. I have spoken of the Prince's seclusion. I admit now that it
had already made an impression on me. He was, as became his nature and
his training, a disciplinarian. Each man had his place and his duties,
and Prince Frederic appeared at due seasons and shared in the
responsibilities. He did not shirk, in accordance with his promise. But
for the rest he had withdrawn himself now for three days from the
general company. His meals were served with his sister and
Mademoiselle, but from what I saw he was most often in his own cabin;
and here it was I got a glimpse of him once again--a glimpse, I mean,
into that strange and compound character.

I forget the occasion, but it was necessary that I should see him, and
I entered the cabin after knocking. When we were done he pulled his
papers before him and sat looking at them dully.

"Have you any literary qualities, Dr. Phillimore?" he asked me, quite
unexpectedly.

I hesitated. "If so, they are quite undeveloped," I replied. "I have no
reason to suppose so."

"Ah!" he sighed, and taking a volume which lay on the table he opened
it. "Do you know German?"

I told him that I could read the language. He nodded.

"It has never been properly appreciated," he said slowly; "the German
literature is wonderful--ah, wonderful!" and he appeared to meditate
over his page; then he set the book down and looked across at me.

"You are married, doctor? Ah, no!" He nodded again, and once more
resumed his meditations. I might have taken it for granted that I was
free to go, but for some reason I lingered. He frowned deeply, and
sighed again.

"There is a passage in Schiller, but you would not know it----"

He gave me no chance of saying, and I answered nothing; only sat and
stared at him.

"There is more music in Germany