nversation with Dirk Peters. I had taken my customary
seat at the top of the iceberg, and had occupied it for half an
hour, being, as may be supposed, deep in thought, when I saw the
half-breed coming quickly up the slope. We had exchanged hardly a
dozen words since the iceberg had begun to move again. When Dirk
Peters came up to me, he did not address me at first, and was so
intent on his thoughts that I was not quite sure he saw me. At
length, heleaned back against an ice-block, and spoke:

"Mr. Jeorling," he said, "you remember, in your cabin in the
_Halbrane_, I told you the--the affair of the _Grampus_?"

I remembered well.

"I told you that Parker's name was not Parker, that it was Holt,
and that he was Ned Holt's brother?"

"I know, Dirk Peters," I replied, "but why do you refer to
that sad story again?"

"Why, Mr. Jeorling? Have not--have you never sam anything about
it to anybody?"

"Not to anybody," I protested. "How could you suppose I should
be so ill-advised, so imprudent, as to divulge your secret, a secret
which ought never to pass our lips--a dead secret?"

"Dead, yes, dead! And yet, understand me, it seems to me that,
among the crew, something is known."

I instantly recalled to mind what the boatswain had told me
concerning a certain conversation in which he had overheard Hearne
prompting Martin Holt to ask the half-breed what were the
circumstances of his brother's death on board the _Grampus_. Had a
portion of the secret got out, or was this apprehension on the part
of Dirk Peters purely imaginary?

"Explain yourself," I said.

"Understand me, Mr. Jeorling, I am a bad hand at explaining. Yes,
yesterday--I have thought of nothing else since--Martin Holt took
me aside, far from the others, and told me that he wished to speak
to me--"

"Of the _Grampus_?"

"Of the _Grampus_--yes, and of his brother, Ned Holt. For the first
time he uttered that name before me--and yet we have sailed
together for nearly three months."

The half-breed's voice was so changed that I could hardly hear him.

"It seemed to me," he resumed, "that in Martin Holt's
mind--no, I was not mistaken--there was something like a
suspicion."

"But tell me what he said! Tell me exactly what he asked you. What
is it?"

I felt sure that the question put by Martin Holt, whatsoever its
bearing, had been inspired by Hearne. Nevertheless, as I considered
it well that the half-breed should know nothing of the
sealing-maste