stranger in the dusk and sweetly spoke for the third time.

"But I don't understand. If he has told you all about it, I--I don't see
why you have come to me at all."

Then the man appeared to recollect that he had omitted the most
important part of his narrative--of course she didn't understand, no
wonder!--and spoke with some eagerness.

"I should have explained that in the beginning!--only of course I don't
like to trespass too far on your time.... You see--unfortunately--Dal's
hardly in position to speak about the matter at all. I--"

He paused, as if seeking how to put it, and then spoke these
doubt-destroying words:

"It is very perplexing, but the truth is--he says so himself--he doesn't
know at all what took place."

"Oh!... _He doesn't know_!"

"I don't wonder you're astonished at his saying so," said the young man,
in quite a gentle way. "And yet I do believe him absolutely...."

He now explained, in well-selected phrases, that Jack Dalhousie had been
very drunk when he boarded the boat, having taken a running start on the
evening preceding. Though he might have seemed normal enough, through
long experience in control, he was actually quite irresponsible; and
drink had played strange tricks with his mind before now. The boy could
remember getting into the boat, it seemed; remember that--ah--that she