"--He's told me that, accepting you, for a day and a half he held on his course, close-hauled. Is that so? But he was suspicious, as deaf men are. He took a notion that you--you, keeping mum as a cat, having to pass for somebody else and avoid questions--were just lying low, meaning to slip cable at Valparaiso and hurry in with a prior claim. I am sorry to say it, Foe: but altogether you did not create good impression on board the _I'll Away_. To the crew you were an object of dark suspicion. To the skipper you were either a close knave, meaning to trick him, or an incredible idiot. After a while, and almost against hope, he determined to try you for an idiot. He ordered his helm up, and watched you. You did not protest. He put his helm farther and farther up, and headed for the Marquesas. Still you offered no objection. So he landed you--on Nukuheva, if I remember. And from Nukuheva, somehow, I guess, you got a slant out of your missionary labours to Sydney or else 'twas back to Valparaiso--I haven't tracked it: but from one or other you picked up some sort of a passage home. Anyway, lost men as the _I'll Away's_ crew might be, they were glad enough, having traded you for nothing, to up-sail and lose you out of their sight. . . . And this man I find you two gentlemen treating as your friend, whom the scum of the earth (as you would call them) abhorred! And you _know_, whilst those poor men only guessed!" "Stay a moment, Farrell," interposed Jimmy. "Sorry to interrupt . . . but will you kindly take a look around this room. Not entirely a neat apartment, eh? A few odd cases and cabin trunks lying around? . . . You and Sir Roderick were almost at blows just now. But if you're curious to know the reason of all this mess, it is that, when you paid us this timely call, he was packing to search for you." "So?" Farrell drew back, regarding me, and the upper lids of his eyes went up till they were almost hidden by his brows. "So?" he said slowly. "But why?" "Put it at a whim," I said sharply, "and get on with your tale. . . . If you interrupt again, Jimmy, I'll strangle you, or attempt to. You may have observed that I'm ready to fight anybody, this afternoon." Farrell looked at me earnestly. "I see what you would be driving at, sir," said he, becoming the humble tradesman again. "And I admire. But, by God, sir!" he broke out, "it won't do! It shan't do! No man is going to shoulder that man's sin, to rob me of him!" "Get down from that horse," said I. "You can mount him again, if you choose, later on; but, first, finish the story." "All very well," said Farrell, "to put it in that dictatorial way, when you've taken the heart out of a man. . . . Well, Hales headed back for Valparaiso, scarce believing his luck. There he interviewed the ministry, got a provisional concession, and started out for the island again, to make good--and found another inhabitant alive and kicking.