next steamer day, to give up Rosey and leave the
ship."

De Ferrieres staggered to his feet despite Nott's restraining hand. "To
leave Mademoiselle and leave the ship?" he said huskily, "is it not?"

"In course. Yer can leave things yer just ez you found 'em when you
came, you know," continued Nott, for the first time looking round the
miserable apartment. "It's a business job. I'll take the bales back
agin, and you kin reckon up what you're out, countin' Rosey and loss o'
time."

"He wishes me to go--he has said," repeated De Ferrieres to himself
thickly.

"Ef you mean _me_ when you say _him_, and ez thar ain't any other man
around, I reckon you do--'yes!'"

"And he asks me--he--this man of the feet and the daughter--asks me--De
Ferrieres--what I will take," continued De Ferrieres, buttoning his
coat. "No! it is a dream!" He walked stiffly to the corner where his
portmanteau lay, lifted it, and going to the outer door, a cut through
the ship's side that communicated with the alley, unlocked it and flung
it open to the night. A thick mist like the breath of the ocean flowed
into the room.

"You ask me what I shall take to go," he said as he stood on the
threshold. "I shall take what _you_ cannot give, Monsieur, but what I
would not keep if I stood here another moment. I take my Honor,
Monsieur, and--I take my leave!"

For a moment his grotesque figure was outlined in the opening, and then
disappeared as if he had dropped into an invisible ocean below.
Stupefied and disconcerted a this complete success of his overtures,
Abner Nott remained speechless, gazing at the vacant space until a cold
influx of the mist recalled him. Then he rose and shuffled quickly to
the door.

"Hi! Ferrers! Look yer--Say! Wot's your hurry, pardner?"

But there was no response. The thick mist, which hid the surrounding
objects, seemed to deaden all sound also. After a moment's pause he
closed the door, but did not lock it, and retreating to the center of
the room remained blinking at the two candles and plucking some
perplexing problem from his beard. Suddenly an idea seized him. Rosey!
Where was she? Perhaps it had been a preconcerted plan, and she had
fled with him. Putting out the lights he stumbled hurriedly through the
passage to the gangway above. The cabin--door was open; there was the
sound of voices--Renshaw's and Rosey's. Mr. Nott felt relieved but not
unembarrassed. He would have avoided his daughter's presence that
even