xpression, and
of something else which I have sometimes thought was more allied with
horror than any other emotion. Generally the former predominated, but on
occasions, and more particularly when he was thoughtfully inclined, the
look of fear would spread and deepen until it imparted a new character
to his whole countenance. It is at these times that he is most subject
to tempestuous fits of anger, and he seems to be aware of it, for I have
known him lock himself up so that no one might approach him until his
dark hour was passed. He sleeps badly, and I have heard him shouting
during the night, but his cabin is some little distance from mine, and I
could never distinguish the words which he said.

This is one phase of his character, and the most disagreeable one. It
is only through my close association with him, thrown together as we
are day after day, that I have observed it. Otherwise he is an agreeable
companion, well-read and entertaining, and as gallant a seaman as ever
trod a deck. I shall not easily forget the way in which he handled the
ship when we were caught by a gale among the loose ice at the beginning
of April. I have never seen him so cheerful, and even hilarious, as he
was that night, as he paced backwards and forwards upon the bridge amid
the flashing of the lightning and the howling of the wind. He has told
me several times that the thought of death was a pleasant one to him,
which is a sad thing for a young man to say; he cannot be much more than
thirty, though his hair and moustache are already slightly grizzled.
Some great sorrow must have overtaken him and blighted his whole life.
Perhaps I should be the same if I lost my Flora--God knows! I think if
it were not for her that I should care very little whether the wind blew
from the north or the south to-morrow.

There, I hear him come down the companion, and he has locked himself up
in his room, which shows that he is still in an unamiable mood. And so
to bed, as old Pepys would say, for the candle is burning down (we have
to use them now since the nights are closing in), and the steward has
turned in, so there are no hopes of another one.

September 12th.--Calm, clear day, and still lying in the same position.
What wind there is comes from the south-east, but it is very slight.
Captain is in a better humour, and apologised to me at breakfast for his
rudeness. He still looks somewhat distrait, however, and retains that
wild look in his eyes which