CHAPTER XXVII. The next day, at break of dawn, I went in search of Captain Corsican, whom I found in the grand saloon. He had passed the night with Fabian, who was still suffering from the shock which the name of Ellen’s husband had given him. Did a secret intuition tell him that Drake was not alone on board? Had Ellen’s presence been revealed to him by the appearance of this man? Lastly, could he guess that the poor crazed woman was the young girl whom he so fondly loved? Corsican could not say, for Fabian had not uttered one word all night. Corsican resented Fabian’s wrongs with a kind of brotherly feeling. The intrepid nature of the latter had from childhood irresistibly attracted him, and he was now in the greatest despair. “I came in too late,” said he to me. “Before Fabian could have raised his hand, I ought to have struck that wretch.” “Useless violence,” replied I. “Harry Drake would not have risked a quarrel with you; he has a grudge against Fabian, and a meeting between the two had become inevitable.” “You are right,” said the Captain. “That rascal has got what he wanted; he knew Fabian, his past life, and his love. Perhaps Ellen, deprived of reason, betrayed her secret thoughts, or, rather, did not Drake before his marriage learn from the loyal young woman all he was ignorant of regarding her past life? Urged by a base impulse, and finding himself in contact with Fabian, he has waited for an opportunity in which he could assume the part of the offended. This scoundrel ought to be a clever duellist.” “Yes,” replied I. “He has already had three or four encounters of the kind.” “My dear sir,” said the Captain, “it is not the duel in itself which I fear for Fabian. Captain Mac Elwin is one of those who never trouble themselves about danger, but it is the result of this engagement which is to be dreaded. If Fabian were to kill this man, however vile he may be, it would place an impossible barrier between Ellen and himself, and Heaven knows, the unhappy woman needs a support, like Fabian, in the state she now is.” “True,” said I; “whatever happens we can but hope that Harry Drake will fall. Justice is on our side.” “Certainly,” replied the Captain, “but one cannot help feeling distressed to think that even at the risk of my own life I could not have spared Fabian this.” “Captain,” said I, taking the hand of this devoted friend, “Drake has not sent his seconds yet, so that, although circumstances are against us, I do not despair.” “Do you know any means of preventing the duel?” “None at present; at the same time, if the meeting must take place, it seems to me that it can only do so in America, and before we get there, chance, which has brought about this state of things, will, perhaps, turn the scales in our favour.”