y."

"You have hit it perfectly, Harcourt; _suum caique_; and if only we
could get the world to see that each of us has his speciality, we should
all of us do much better."

By the vigorous tug he gave the bell, and the tone in which he ordered
up something to eat, it was plain to see that he scarcely relished the
moral Upton had applied to his speech. With the appearance of the good
cheer, however, he speedily threw off his momentary displeasure, and as
he ate and drank, his honest, manly face lost every trace of annoyance.
Once only did a passing shade of anger cross his countenance. It was
when, suddenly looking up, he saw Upton's eyes settled on him, and his
whole features expressing a most palpable sensation of wonderment and
compassion.

"Ay," cried he, "I know well what's passing in your mind this minute.
You are lost in your pitying estimate of such a mere animal as I am;
but, hang it all, old fellow, why not be satisfied with the flattering
thought that _you_ are of another stamp,--a creature of a different
order?"

"It does not make one a whit happier," sighed Upton, who never shrunk
from accepting the sentiment as his own.

"I should have thought otherwise," said Harcourt, with a malicious
twinkle of the eye; for he fancied that he had at last touched the weak
point of his adversary.

"No, my dear Harcourt, the _crasso naturo_ have rather the best of it,
since no small share of this world's collisions are actually physical
shocks; and that great strong pipkin that encloses your brains will
stand much that would smash the poor egg-shell that shrouds mine."

"Whenever you draw a comparison in my favor, I always find at the end
I come off worst," said Harcourt, bluntly; and Upton laughed one of his
rich, musical laughs, in which there was indeed nothing mirthful, but
something that seemed to say that his nature experienced a sense of
enjoyment higher, perhaps, than anything merely comic could suggest.

"You came off best this time, Harcourt," said he, good-humoredly; and
such a thorough air of frankness accompanied the words that Harcourt was
disarmed of all distrust at once, and joined in the laugh heartily.

"But you have not yet told me, Harcourt," said the other, "where you
have been, and why you spent your night on the sea."

"The story is not a very long one," replied he; and at once gave a full
recital of the events, which our reader has already had before him in
our last chapter, adding, in c