So Mr. Sherman, agreeing with Captain Duff, was confident that, whatever else Holdsworth might have been, he was not a sailor. This was, at all events, a negative discovery, which lopped off one of the numerous conjectures with which the mystery of Holdsworth’s past was considered. Strange it was to talk to the poor fellow, to hear his rational language, his discussions, his sensible remarks, and to feel that he was speaking, so to say, on this side of a curtain, behind which were hidden all the true interests of his life. Once or twice he staggered Captain Duff by a nautical question, the very nature of which implied an intimate acquaintance with the sea; but his unaffected timidity when the vessel rolled, or when the weather was squally, always drove the skipper back upon his first conclusion, and made him think that the knowledge of sails, ropes, yards, etc., which Holdsworth displayed, had been picked up by him as a passenger, or even out of books. However, his marine allusions were few and far between. His horror of the sea was remarkable, and he repeatedly inquired how long it would be before they reached Sydney. Moreover, he was rendered taciturn by his ceaseless struggles with memory; and would pass whole hours lost in thought, during which, it was observed, no gleam ever entered his face to indicate his recurrence to any action, phase, or condition of his past. Often, when the main-deck was clear, he would steal to the boat and stand contemplating her with his hands locked, and his brow corrugated with anxious thought. It was strange to see him running his eyes over her, handling the yoke-lines, peering into the locker, and literally groping for an inspiration. Once, the boatswain of the vessel, a shrewd English seaman, who, as well as every other soul on board the barque, knew of Holdsworth’s total loss of memory, seeing him alone staring at the boat, came out of his berth, and addressed him: “They say, sir, that you don’t remember this boat?” “I am trying to recollect,” answered Holdsworth, looking at him with the expression of painful eagerness that was now almost a characteristic of his face. “See here, sir, when that there boat was sighted, there was only two persons found aboard of her. You was one, and the other was the poor fellow we buried. Now, what I’m always saying to my mates is this: this here’s a ship’s quarter-boat, and more hands went in her than two when she put off. Now, sir, try and think how many there was.” “I remember nothing. I would to God I could!” “But don’t you reck’let what your thoughts was when the bread got soaked with the salt water?” Holdsworth shook his head.