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V.The “Gloria Scott”

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    ishedtoforgetthem.’ “Whataneyeyouhave!”hecried,withasighofrelief.‘Itisjustasyousay.Butwewon’ttalkofit.Ofallghoststheghostsofouroldloversaretheworst.Comeintothebilliard-roomandhaveaquietcigar.’ “Fromthatday,amidallhiscordiality,therewasalwaysatouchofsuspicioninMr.Trevor’smannertowardsme.Evenhissonremarkedit.‘You’vegiventhegovernorsuchaturn,’saidhe,‘thathe’llneverbesureagainofwhatyouknowandwhatyoudon’tknow.’Hedidnotmeantoshowit,Iamsure,butitwassostronglyinhismindthatitpeepedoutateveryaction.AtlastIbecamesoconvincedthatIwascausinghimuneasinessthatIdrewmyvisittoaclose.Ontheveryday,however,beforeIleft,anincidentoccurredwhichprovedinthesequeltobeofimportance. “Weweresittingoutuponthelawnongardenchairs,thethreeofus,baskinginthesunandadmiringtheviewacrosstheBroads,whenamaidcameouttosaythattherewasamanatthedoorwhowantedtoseeMr.Trevor. “‘Whatishisname?’askedmyhost. “‘Hewouldnotgiveany.’ “‘Whatdoeshewant,then?’ “‘Hesaysthatyouknowhim,andthatheonlywantsamoment’sconversation.’ “‘Showhimroundhere.’Aninstantafterwardsthereappearedalittlewizenedfellowwithacringingmannerandashamblingstyleofwalking.Heworeanopenjacket,withasplotchoftaronthesleeve,ared-and-blackcheckshirt,dungareetrousers,andheavybootsbadlyworn.Hisfacewasthinandbrownandcrafty,withaperpetualsmileuponit,whichshowedanirregularlineofyellowteeth,andhiscrinkledhandswerehalfclosedinawaythatisdistinctiveofsailors.AshecameslouchingacrossthelawnIheardMr.Trevormakeasortofhiccoughingnoiseinhisthroat,andjumpingoutofhischair,heranintothehouse.Hewasbackinamoment,andIsmeltastrongreekofbrandyashepassedme. “‘Well,myman,’saidhe,‘whatcanIdoforyou?’ “Thesailorstoodlookingathimwithpuckeredeyes,andwiththesameloose-lippedsmileuponhisface. “‘Youdon’tknowme?’heasked. “‘Why,dearme,itissurelyHudson,’saidMr.Trevorinatoneofsurprise. “‘Hudsonitis,sir,’saidtheseaman.‘Why,it’sthirtyyearandmoresinceIsawyoulast.Hereyouareinyourhouse,andmestillpickingmysaltmeatoutoftheharnesscask.’ “‘Tut,youwillfindthatIhavenotforgottenoldtimes,’criedMr.Trevor,and,walkingtowardsthesailor,hesaidsomethinginalowvoice.‘Gointothekitchen,’hecontinuedoutloud,‘andyouwillgetfoodanddrink.IhavenodoubtthatIshallfindyouasituation.’ “‘Thankyou,sir,’saidtheseaman,touchinghisforelock.‘I’mjustoffatwo-yearerinaneight-knottramp,short-handedatthat,andIwantsarest.IthoughtI’dgetiteitherwithMr.Beddoesorwithyou.’ “‘Ah!’criedTrevor.‘YouknowwhereMr.Beddoesis?’ “‘Blessyou,sir,Iknowwhereallmyoldfriendsare,’saidthefellowwithasinistersmile,andheslouchedoffafterthemaidtothekitchen.Mr.Trevormumbledsomethingtousabouthavingbeenshipmatewiththemanwhenhewasgoingbacktothediggings,andthen,leavingusonthelawn,hewentindoors.Anhourlater,whenweenteredthehouse,wefoundhimstretcheddeaddrunkuponthedining-roomsofa.Thewholeincidentleftamostuglyimpressionuponmymind,andIwasnotsorrynextdaytoleaveDonnithorpebehindme,forIfeltthatmypresencemustbeasourceofembarrassmenttomyfriend. “Allthisoccurredduringthefirstmonthofthelongvacation.IwentuptomyLondonrooms,whereIspentsevenweeksworkingoutafewexperimentsinorganicchemistry.Oneday,however,whentheautumnwasfaradvancedandthevacationdrawingtoaclose,IreceivedatelegramfrommyfriendimploringmetoreturntoDonnithorpe,andsayingthathewasingreatneedofmyadviceandassistance.OfcourseIdroppedeverythingandsetoutfortheNorthoncemore. “Hemetmewiththedog-cartatthestation,andIsawataglancethatthelasttwomonthshadbeenverytryingonesfor
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