rtunately--for the circumstance had some gravity--a
mist was beginning to come down on us. I could not keep still, I My
apprehensions were redoubled. It was that West was only awaiting the
order to change the helm. What mortal anguish soever the captain's
must be, I understood too well that he would not give that order
without hesitation.

For several days past I had not seen the half-breed, or, least, I
had not exchanged a word with him. He was boycotted by the whole
crew, with the exception of the boatswain, who was careful to
address him, although rarely got a word in return. Dirk Peters took
not faintest notice of this state of things. He remained completely
absorbed in his own thoughts, yet, had he heard West give the word
to steer north, I know not acts of violence he might have been
driven. He seemed to avoid me; was this from a desire not to
compromise me?

On the 17th, in the afternoon, however, Dirk Peters manifested an
intention of speaking to me, and never, never, could I have imagined
what I was to learn in that interview.

It was about half-past two, and, not feeling well, I gone to my
cabin, where the side window was open, that at the back was closed.
I heard a knock at the dom and asked who was there.

"Dirk Peters," was the reply.

"You want to speak to me?"

"Yes."

"I am coming out."

"If you please--I should prefer--may I come into your cabin?"

"Come in."

He entered, and shut the door behind him?

Without rising I signed to him to seat himself arm-chair, but he
remained standing.

"What do you want of me, Dirk Peters?" I asked at length, as he
seemed unable to make up his mind to speak.

"I want to tell you something--because it seems well that you
should know it, and you only. In the crew--they must never know
it."

"If it is a grave matter, and you fear any indiscretion, Dirk
Peters, why do you speak to me?"

"If!--I must! Ah, yes! I must! It is impossible to keep it there!
It weighs on me like a stone."

And Dirk Peters struck his breast violently.

Then he resumed:

"Yes! I am always afraid it may escape me during my sleep, and
that someone will hear it, for I dream of it, and in dreaming--"

"You dream," I replied, "and of what?"

"Of him, of him. Therefore it is that I sleep in corners, all
alone, for fear that his true name should be discovered."

Then it struck me that the half-breed was perhaps about to respond
to an inquiry which I had not yet made--why he h