"Not at all, Mr. Coristine, it was my fault. I am afraid your nose
suffered."

"Ha! ha!" chuckled the Captain, "young fellows can stand a lot o' that
sort o' punishment. Reefs o' that kind don't do human vessels no harm."

Wilkinson was getting sick of the Captain and his aggressive vulgarity.
Coristine didn't mind him; anybody belonging to Miss Carmichael was, for
the present, delightful. Nevertheless, for marching purposes, he fell in
with Toner, while the Captain accompanied Mr. Errol, and Wilkinson, Mr.
Perrowne. They had six miles to tramp, which took them a good hour and
a-half. The Captain discussed navigation in Scripture times with the
minister, and decided that the Jews might have been good at punting
round, but were a poor seafaring lot. The dominie and the parson were
deep in the philosophy of the affections, in the course of which
excursus the former quoted the words:--

Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, it is not bought
Nor voice nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassionated gaze.

It comes, the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,
In silence and alone.
To seek the elected one.

Mr. Perrowne was struck with these verses, and, taking out his note
book, begged that his companion would repeat them, as he recorded their
sublime sentiment for future use. They then proceeded to eulogize Miss
Du Plessis, of whom the parson formed a very high estimate, which he
qualified by the statement that, were he not in holy orders, he would
say Miss Fanny Halbert was more fun and ever so much jollier. Mr.
Wilkinson really could not say, speaking conscientiously and without
reserve, that he regarded jollity as an essential element in true
womanhood. In his estimation it sank the peculiar grace and sacred
dignity of the sex too nearly to a level with ordinary prosaic humanity.
Mr. Perrowne concurred in a measure, but thought it was awfully nice for
men of serious occupations, like the dominie and himself, to have
somebody to liven them up a little; not too much, down't you know, but
just enough to dispel the blues. The lawyer interrogated Toner. "Well,
Ben, have you got any news of your young lady?"

"Yaas, Doctor."

"Never mind calling me doctor, Ben, because I'm not one yet. My name is
Coristine."

"Then, Mr. Corsten, I heern from old man Newcome as Serlizer's out in
that there Slec Camp in the laiuks. She's cookin' for twainty dollars a
mo