ough the
port hole, throwing a silvery flickering circle upon the door. As I lay
I kept my drowsy eyes upon this circle, and was conscious that it was
gradually becoming less well-defined as my senses left me, when I was
suddenly recalled to full wakefulness by the appearance of a small
dark object in the very centre of the luminous disc. I lay quietly and
breathlessly watching it. Gradually it grew larger and plainer, and then
I perceived that it was a human hand which had been cautiously inserted
through the chink of the half-closed door--a hand which, as I observed
with a thrill of horror, was not provided with fingers. The door swung
cautiously backwards, and Goring's head followed his hand. It appeared
in the centre of the moonlight, and was framed as it were in a ghastly
uncertain halo, against which his features showed out plainly. It seemed
to me that I had never seen such an utterly fiendish and merciless
expression upon a human face. His eyes were dilated and glaring, his
lips drawn back so as to show his white fangs, and his straight black
hair appeared to bristle over his low forehead like the hood of a cobra.
The sudden and noiseless apparition had such an effect upon me that I
sprang up in bed trembling in every limb, and held out my hand towards
my revolver. I was heartily ashamed of my hastiness when he explained
the object of his intrusion, as he immediately did in the most courteous
language. He had been suffering from toothache, poor fellow! and had
come in to beg some laudanum, knowing that I possessed a medicine chest.
As to a sinister expression he is never a beauty, and what with my state
of nervous tension and the effect of the shifting moonlight it was easy
to conjure up something horrible. I gave him twenty drops, and he went
off again with many expressions of gratitude. I can hardly say how much
this trivial incident affected me. I have felt unstrung all day.

A week's record of our voyage is here omitted, as nothing eventful
occurred during the time, and my log consists merely of a few pages of
unimportant gossip.

November 7.--Harton and I sat on the poop all the morning, for the
weather is becoming very warm as we come into southern latitudes. We
reckon that we have done two-thirds of our voyage. How glad we shall
be to see the green banks of the Tagus, and leave this unlucky ship for
ever! I was endeavouring to amuse Harton to-day and to while away the
time by telling him some of the expe