"You see," he would argue, "on board a ship one gets only the one side of human nature. Sailors may differ a bit one from another, but they can all be divided into two or three classes--the steady honest fellow who tries to do his work well; the reckless fellow who is ready to do his work, but is up to every sort of mischief and devilment; and the lazy, loafing fellow who neglects his duty whenever he possibly can, and is always shamming sick in order to get off it. Some day or other I shall settle on shore and practise there, and I want to learn something about the people I shall have to deal with; besides, there's nothing more amusing than looking on at a ball when you have no idea of dancing yourself. It's astonishing what a lot of human nature you see if you do but keep your wits about you." In the course of the evening he came up to the first-lieutenant. "Who is that man you have just been talking to, Gulston? I have been watching him for some time. He has not been dancing, but has been standing in corners looking on." "He is Mr. Carne, doctor; a cousin, or rather a nephew, of our hostess." "Is he the brother of that pretty girl you have been dancing with?" The lieutenant nodded. "Then I am sorry for her," the surgeon said, bluntly. "Sorry! What for?" The surgeon answered by another question. "Do you know anything about the family, Gulston?" "I have heard something about them. Why?" "Never mind now," the surgeon said. "I will tell you in the morning; it's hardly a question to discuss here," and he turned away before the lieutenant could ask further. It was four o'clock before the dancing ceased and the last carriage rolled away. Then the military and naval men, and two or three visitors from Plymouth, gathered in the library, and smoked and talked for an hour, and were then conveyed to the station to catch the early train. The next day, as they were walking up and down the quarter-deck, the first-lieutenant said: "By the way, doctor, what was it you were going to say last night about the Carnes? You said you were sorry for Miss Carne, and asked me if I knew anything about the history of the family." "Yes, that was it, Gulston; it wasn't the sort of thing to talk about there, especially as I understand the Mervyns are connections of the Carnes. The question I was going to ask you was this: You know their family history; is there any insanity in it?" The lieutenant stopped suddenly in his walk with an exclamation of surprise and pain. "What do you mean, Mackenzie? Why do you ask such a question?" "You have not answered mine. Is there insanity in the blood?" "There has been," the lieutenant said, reluctantly.