It came from the Captain's quarters. I passed in so quietly that I was not observed. As I suspected, the musician was Captain Ganoe. He was so absorbed in the plaintive notes of the violin, through which his soul was speaking, that he did not notice my intrusion. He was in thought, far away and oblivious to his surroundings. I stood and carefully scanned the form before me. It was that of a man of mature years, broad shoulders and medium height, firmly knit, compactly built and fair complexion. His eyes were blue, his nose a combination of Grecian and Roman, his mouth firm, and his entire bearing indicative of courage and strength of character. His brow was broad and thoughtful; his expression kind and firm. Everything left the impression that, though comparatively young, he had drained the cup of bitter disappointment to its dregs. While I sympathized, his sadness brought a feeling of sweet relief. Oh, how my heart bounded, and for the moment I felt impelled to fall upon his bosom and sob out the story of my wrongs. But no, this would not do. I must be patient and first ascertain from his own lips, in just what light he would regard me when he learned the whole truth. I aroused him from his reverie with the inquiry: "Is this Captain Ganoe?" He looked up quickly, surprised to see a stranger in his cabin, and responded: "Yes, young man, I am Captain Ganoe, and let me ask to what I am indebted for the honor of this visit. Did you not meet an officer who could attend to your wants?" "I did," I replied, "but I wanted to see and talk with Captain Ganoe." The severity left his countenance, and he bade me be seated. "Now young man," said he, "please state fully but briefly, what you want, for my time is entirely occupied." I answered promptly, and without preliminary explanations I said: "I have just learned from the papers that you are about to sail for the most thorough exploration of the Arctic regions that has yet been attempted, and I want to go with you." He turned up the lamp which had been burning low, and looked me full in the face. I felt his searching gaze but withstood it, with no exhibition of the fears I felt for the success of my plans. But with inward tremor, I awaited his reply. After hesitating a moment, he said deliberately: "You do not know what you ask. You are young and refined. This expedition must encounter dangers, known and unknown, and none but the strong and experienced should be permitted to make the venture. It would be wrong in me to take a young man like you from the bosom of his family, from society, and all the opportunities for a successful and useful life, to go with me on this perilous expedition. The fact is, you ought to return home and leave such hazardous adventures as this for those who have no hopes to be blasted, and who wish for reasons of their own, to hide themselves away from the world. Please tell me your name and where you come from."