I had an idea of what he meant to say, and just saved myself by the
privilege of defective hearing. He was too shaken generally to
insist, but my mate, close witness of that parting, looked
mystified and his face took on a thoughtful cast. As I did not
want to appear as if I wished to avoid all communication with my
officers, he had the opportunity to address me.

"Seems a very nice man. His boat's crew told our chaps a very
extraordinary story, if what I am told by the steward is true. I
suppose you had it from the captain, sir?"

"Yes. I had a story from the captain."

"A very horrible affair--isn't it, sir?"

"It is."

"Beats all these tales we hear about murders in Yankee ships."

"I don't think it beats them. I don't think it resembles them in
the least."

"Bless my soul--you don't say so! But of course I've no
acquaintance whatever with American ships, not I, so I couldn't go
against your knowledge. It's horrible enough for me. . . . But the
queerest part is that those fellows seemed to have some idea the
man was hidden aboard here. They had really. Did you ever hear of
such a thing?"

"Preposterous--isn't it?"