apartment for a last conference with the bed-ridden captain of
the _Sea-mew_. Wardour and Crayford were left together, alone.



Chapter 9.


Crayford touched his friend on the shoulder to rouse him. Wardour
looked up, impatiently, with a frown.

"I was just asleep," he said. "Why do you wake me?"

"Look round you, Richard. We are alone."

"Well--and what of that?"

"I wish to speak to you privately; and this is my opportunity.
You have disappointed and surprised me to-day. Why did you say it
was all one to you whether you went or stayed? Why are you the
only man among us who seems to be perfectly indifferent whether
we are rescued or not?"

"Can a man always give a reason for what is strange in his manner
or his words?" Wardour retorted.

"He can try," said Crayford, quietly--"when his friend asks him."

Wardour's manner softened.