It was a very calm and lovely night, with the moon, a few days old, going down in the west. The breeze held everything silent aloft; a murmur as of the raining of a fountain floated up from alongside as the white body of the little barque slipped through the darkling waters brimming in a firm black line to the spangled sky of the horizon. The captain had arrived on deck at eight, but he kept to the after-part of the poop, nor once addressed us, often standing motionless for ten minutes at a time, till he looked like some ebony statue at the rail floating softly up and down against the stars to the delicate curtseying of his little ship. I seemed to notice, however, yet without giving much heed to the thing, an indisposition on the part of the watch on deck to coil themselves away for their usual fine-weather naps. From time to time, though dimly, there would steal aft a hum of voices from the black shadow upon the deck past the galley. Once a man kindled a phosphorus match to light his pipe, and a small group of faces showed to the flash of the flame, so to speak, as it soared and sank to the fellow’s sucking at it; but I found nothing in this to arrest my attention saving that I recollect asking Miss Temple to notice the odd effect produced by the coming out of those faces amid the dusk; for one saw _them_ only and no other portion of the men’s bodies. We walked to the companion to leave the deck. I scarcely knew whether or not to call a good-night to the captain, so absorbed in thought did his motionless posture express him. But as Miss Temple put her foot upon the steps, he quietly cried out: ‘Are ye going to bed?’ ‘Yes, captain,’ I answered, ‘and we wish you a very good-night.’ ‘A minute!’ he sung out, and came to us. He seemed to peer into Miss Temple’s face, that showed as a mere faint glimmer in the starlight, the moon being then sunk, and addressing me, exclaimed in a voice but a little above a whisper: ‘I suppose you have told the lady everything, Mr. Dugdale?’ ‘Yes,’ I answered; ‘my oath allowed for that, you know.’ ‘Certainly,’ said he. ‘It’s a grand opportunity for money-getting, mem. The brace of you know more than the wife of my own bosom has any suspicion of. As God’s my Saviour, never once have I opened my lips to Mrs. Braine about that there money.’ ‘I had hoped you would have transferred me to a homeward-bound ship,’ said Miss Temple. ‘You don’t want to be separated from a sweetheart, do you?’ he exclaimed. This was a stroke to utterly silence her. I believe she had spoken from no other motive than to finesse, that the captain might suppose her as sincere in her belief of his story as I was; but this word _sweetheart_ was like a blast of lightning. What her face would have exhibited if there had been light enough to see it by, I could only imagine. ‘It grows late, captain; good-night,’ said I, pitying her for the confusion and disorder which I knew she would be under.