disgust. He said to himself that it was unreasonable. Men were like
that--moral cannibals feeding on each other's misfortunes. He said
aloud:

"'You have made it perfectly plain how it is that you are here. Your
log-book confirms you very minutely. Of course, a log-book may be
cooked. Nothing easier.'

"The Northman never moved a muscle. He was gazing at the floor; he
seemed not to have heard. He raised his head after a while.

"'But you can't suspect me of anything,' he muttered, negligently.

"The commanding officer thought: 'Why should he say this?'

"Immediately afterwards the man before him added: 'My cargo is for an
English port.'

"His voice had turned husky for the moment. The commanding officer
reflected: 'That's true. There can be nothing. I can't suspect him. Yet
why was he lying with steam up in this fog--and then, hearing us come
in, why didn't he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else
but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a
man-of-war.'

"Yes--why? The commanding officer went on thinking: 'Suppose I ask
him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. It's
perfectly plain that the fellow _has_ been drinking. Yes, he has been
drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same.' The commanding
officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically