gasp--"Doctor--my head! quick!"

I looked out. As I drew the curtain a worthless lascar sailor fell
fainting into my cabin. He had been drinking a good deal, and the horror
and excitement of the accident had brought on an apoplectic fit. This in
a very hot climate is suddenly fatal. In three minutes, in spite of me,
he was dead. Postponing report of the matter, I went on deck again among
the passengers.

I expected that Mrs. Falchion would be among them, for the news must have
gone to every part of the ship; but she was not there. On the outskirts
of one of the groups, however, I saw Justine Caron. I went to her, and
asked her if Mrs. Falchion had risen. She said that she had not: that
she had been told of the disaster, and had appeared shocked; but had
complained of a headache, and had not risen. I then asked Justine if
Mrs. Falchion had been told who the suicide was, and was answered in the
negative. At that moment a lady came to me and said in an awed whisper:
"Dr. Marmion, is it true that the man who committed suicide was a second-
class passenger, and that he appeared at the ball last night, and danced
with Mrs. Falchion?"

I knew that my reply would soon become common property, so I said:

"He was a first-class passenger, though until yesterday he travelled
second-class. I knew him. His name was Charles Boyd. I introduced him
to Mrs. Falchion last night, but he did not stay long on deck, because he
felt ill. He had heart trouble. You may guess that he was tired of
life." Then I told her of the paper which was for the public, and she
left me.