the last three hours has not left you in your full strength. You must
really give ME the pleasure of spreading the glad tidings of your safety
among the passengers, who have been so terribly alarmed."

"They will undoubtedly be relieved," said Hurlstone, with ironical
bitterness.

"You wrong them," returned the Senor, with gentle reproach; "especially
the ladies."

The voice of the first mate from above here checked his further speech,
and, perhaps, prevented him, as he quickly reascended the upper deck,
from noticing the slight embarrassment of his prisoner.

The Senor's explanations to the mate were evidently explicit and brief.
In a few moments he reappeared with the steward and his assistant.

"Lean on these men," he said to Hurlstone significantly, "and do not
overestimate your strength. Thank Heaven, no bones are broken, and you
are only bruised by the fall. With a little rest, I think we can get
along without laying the captain's medicine-chest under contribution.
Our kind friend Mr. Brooks has had the lower deck cleared, so that you
may gain your state-room without alarming the passengers or fatiguing
yourself."

He pressed Hurlstone's hand as the latter resigned himself to the
steward, and was half led, half supported, through the gloom of the
lower deck. Senor Perkins remained for an instant gazing after him
with even more than his usual benevolence. Suddenly his arm was touched
almost rudely. He turned, and encountered the lowering eyes of the