generous indignation, "what have you to say for yourself? What do you
mean by dashing away like that and killing my little entertainment?"

"Awfully sorry, old man. I hadn't foreseen the cigar. I was bearing up
tolerably well till I began to sniff the smoke. Then everything seemed
to go black--I don't mean you, of course. You were black already--and I
got the feeling that I simply must get on deck and drown myself."

"Well, why didn't you?" demanded Sam, with a strong sense of injury.
"I might have forgiven you then. But to come down here and find you
singing...."

A soft light came into Eustace Hignett's eyes.

"I want to tell you all about that," he said, "It's the most
astonishing story. A miracle, you might almost call it. Makes you
believe in Fate and all that sort of thing. A week ago I was on the
Subway in New York...."

He broke off while Sam cursed him, the Subway, and the city of New
York, in the order named.

"My dear chap, what is the matter?"

"What is the matter? Ha!"

"Something is the matter," persisted Eustace Hignett, "I can tell it by
your manner. Something has happened to disturb and upset you. I know
you so well that I can pierce the mask. What is it? Tell me."