rowded cabin of a small yacht is not an attractive
place in rough weather; and one by one the Four emerged and distributed
themselves about the deck, wherever they could obtain a hold. Some
of them began to act peculiarly. Upon Mr. Cooke's unwillingness or
inability to interfere in his behalf, the Celebrity had assumed an
aggrieved demeanor, but soon the motion of the Maria became more and
more pronounced, and the difficulty of maintaining his decorum likewise
increased. The ruddy color left his face, which grew pale with effort.
I will do him the justice to say that the effort was heroic: he whistled
popular airs, and snatches of the grand opera; he relieved Mr. Cooke of
his glasses (of which Mr. Cooke had neglected to relieve himself), and
scanned the sea line busily. But the inevitable deferred is frequently
more violent than the inevitable taken gracefully, and the confusion
which at length overtook the Celebrity was utter as his humiliation was
complete. We laid him beside Mr. Cooke in the cockpit.

The rain presently ceased, and the wind hauled, as is often the case,
to the northwest, which began to clear, while Bear Island rose from the
northern horizon. Both Farrar and I were surprised to see Miss Trevor
come out; she hooked back the cabin doors and surveyed the prostrate
forms with amusement.

We asked her about those inside.

"Mrs. Cooke has really been very ill," she said, "and Miss Thorn is
doing all she can for her. My father and I were more fortunate. But you
will both catch your deaths," she exclaimed, noticing our condition.
"Tell me where I can find your coats."

I suppose it is natural for a man to enjoy being looked after in this
way; it was certainly a new sensation to Farrar and myself. We assured
her we were drying out and did not need the coats, but nevertheless she
went back into the cabin and found them.

"Miss Thorn says you should both be whipped," she remarked.

When we had put on our coats Miss Trevor sat down and began to talk.

"I once heard of a man," she began complacently, "a man that was
buried alive, and who contrived to dig himself up and then read his own
epitaph. It did not please him, but he was wise and amended his life. I
have often thought how much it might help some people if they could read
their own epitaphs."

Farrar was very quick at this sort of thing; and now that the steering
had become easier was only too glad to join her in worrying the
Celebrity. But he, if