plying to and fro. I had a mind to steal down to the Market Strand
and interrogate her skipper. I had a mind--and laid more than one
plan for it--to follow up my first impulse of bolting for home, to
discover if Captain Coffin had arrived there. But Mrs. Stimcoe,
misinterpreting my eagerness to be employed, had by this time
enlisted me into full service in the sick-room. After the first hint
of surprised gratitude, she betrayed no feeling at all, but bound me
severely to my task. We took the watching turn and turn about, in
spells of three hours' duration. I was held committed, and could not
desert without a brand on my conscience. The disgusting feature of
this is that I was almost glad of it, at the same time longing to
run, and feeling that this, in a way, exonerated me.

At about seven o'clock on the evening of the second day, while I sat
by Mr. Stimcoe's bedside, there came a knock at the front door, and,
looking out of the window--for Mrs. Stimcoe had gone to bully another
sedative out of the doctor, and there was no one in the house to
admit a visitor--I saw Captain Branscome below me on the doorstep.

"Hallo!" said I, as cheerfully as I might, for Mr. Stimcoe was awake
and listening.

"Is--is that Harry Brooks?" asked Captain Branscome, stepping back
and feeling for his gold-rimmed glasses. But by some chance he was
not wearing them. After fumbling for a moment, he gazed up towards
the window, blinking. Folk who habitually wear glasses look
unnatural without them. Captain Branscome's face looked unnatural
somehow. It was pale, and for the moment it seemed to me to be
almost a face of fright; but a moment later I set down its pallor to
weariness.