connected compositions. Within sight are
the fires of numerous " black fellows," who,
a few days ago, murdered two whites, one a
shepherd, the other a wayfarer. During the
same few days I have been cognisant of five
audacious robberies close at hand; and, although
like Mr. Micawber I can affix " magistrate" to
my name, I was as harmless to the lucky robbers
as an unborn innocent, owing to the want of a
posse comitatus, and consequently of the means
of conveying the bushrangers into the pale of
civilisation.

Moreover, festoons of playful but ugly-looking
snakes, swaying over one's head from the
bark roof of the " humpy;" vivacious and
edacious rats, that have a provoking fondness
for nibbling at the eyebrows and toes; the
pertinacious bow-wows of the owl; and the
satanical howls of the native dog (we are among
the antipodes, you know); all these blended
into one do not guarantee that entire composure
of mind suited to the recollection of many
minor details. Here I begin, however; let the
reader fancy me at sea, bound for Victoria.

Well, yes, sir (it is the chief officer who is speaking),
I have known some queer passengers, and it
is not two years since I sailed with the queerest
of all. I was then, second mate of an Indiaman
bound for Bengal, and my queer passenger took
a liking for me, which he showed in many a way.
He was a tall dark man about forty-five, and
was just beginning to turn grey. His face was
deeply lined, but I could not help thinking it
was from sorrow more than from evil. Gentleman
shone most brightly through his mien
and bearing; and yet, unless when spoken
to, he hardly ever opened his mouth to either
lady or gentleman during the many weeks he
was on board. There were some nice people,
too, that trip; an eminent general with his
daughter; a missionary, his wife and sister;
three light dragoon officers, one with a Victoria
cross upon his breast which he had won by a
deed of heroic daring, though a more delicate-
looking youth it would be hard to find.

We had been but a short time at sea, when
the queer passenger seemed to have selected
me as companion. Every night he stayed
on deck during my watch, and it was not
long before I fancied that his mind was not
all right; an opinion which I found was
shared by his fellow-passengers, but on grounds
different from mine. To them his extreme
taciturnity, his avoidance of all amusement,
his abstraction of manner, his abstaining even
from reading, was the theme of marvel. To me,
his increasing singularity of speech, his sudden
starts when pacing the deck at night, his half-
uttered moans when he and I were gazing into
the phosphoric waves, were all proof.

One night—it was about six bells—we were
leaning over the poop-rail, talking. On a sudden,
he said, excitedly: "Now, does not that seem
like a human face?"

"What, sir?" I replied.

"Good Heavens! there it is," he said, pointing
to a dolphin, which, radiant with phosphorus,
was swimming about three fathoms
beneath the surface. I told him what it was,
but he muttered, as though not convinced;
and, after a minute or two, added, " You have
many things to learn, but you are not prepared
for this lesson."

He then walked rapidly up and down, muttering
much, and frequently looking over the
vessel's side intently into the water. I felt very
sorry, for I was convinced that his madness was
becoming worse, and would soon lead to something
sad. I kept by his side as much as possible
every night afterwards, to prevent mishap,
and although I did so as unostentatiously as I
could, I found he perceived my design. He
laid his hand on my shoulder one night.

"Walter," said he, " I see it all, and have
seen it for some time. You will do no discredit
to the family you belong to."

"Family, sir?" said I, in great surprise.
" You cannot know——"

"Yes, Rickman, I do know. Your uncle
Edward was the dearest friend of my boyhood.
I suspected who you were, from the likeness, and
by cross-examinations, whose drift you did not
perceive, I penetrated your secret. Hence it
was that I took to you so much."

The old ivy-clad home of my childhood, the
love-glowing face of my dear uncle Ned, the
sweet serene face of my mother, the twining
gold tresses of my two baby sisters—all these
rushed before me with magic swiftness, and
the tears filled my eyes. He went on:

"You have thought me mad; you knew that
others thought it too; and yet you never, I am
convinced, uttered your suspicions to any one,
and this because you fancied I was somewhat
kind to you. In this you have acted well,
Walter." Another pause. " But I am not
mad. I would I were! Oh, how different is
mine from the wish of the great satirist who
prayed to God ever that his reason should be
saved! Madness were forgetfulness, and to me
would be the greatest blessing—next to death,
Walter, next to death!"

It would be impossible to describe the
appalling intensity of feeling which the deep
sepulchral tones of his voice evinced. I ventured
to stammer forth:

"Surely, sir, there must be something worth
living for."

"Good night," he said, shaking hands. " You
have discretion, and to you I will confide
something which ought to be known to a few when I
am no more." He then went below.

We were long becalmed in the tropics; but
at length we got a " slope" of the trade-winds,
and went along famously. Our queer passenger
had not for weeks spoken to me, save by short
fits and starts; and I began to think he
regretted having said as much as he had said.
Accordingly, through a feeling of delicacy, I kept
aloof from him, pretending that I was busy when
he came up during my watch.

At last, he addressed me in a very abrupt
manner: