It was snowing, and the ground was already white when we reached our humble lodgings. All the way from Gravesend I had been struck with my brother’s capricious manner, at one moment buoyant, the next meditative and despondent. Upon my inquiring after the singular acquaintance he had made upon the boat, he simply laughed, and said, "crank," entirely ignoring the scraps of conversation I had overheard between them. This being his mood, I decided to let him alone, feeling sure that if there were anything worth hearing, I should hear it. We made a hasty inspection of our property, to take care that nothing was disturbed in our absence, and then, with renewed confidence in the landlady, walked again into the storm in search of food. We had eaten nothing since early morning, and were nearly famished. Our restaurant was not hard to find, and the light and warmth within cheered even my dismal soul into hopefulness. Seating ourselves in an alcove by an appetizing table, Torrence pushed the bill of fare toward me, but I begged him to choose the dinner himself, and to select the cheapest and bulkiest dishes. "Rubbish!" he answered; "I’m hungry and am going to have another square feed. If we are to go to the devil, what difference can it possibly make whether we get there on Monday or Saturday?" I could never argue with Torrence; he had his own way in everything, and yet we never quarreled. An elaborate meal was placed before us, with a large jug of beer; the dinner costing more than the breakfast. "I don’t know how it is," said Torrence in the midst of a huge chop, "but something tells me that I was never born to be starved!" After dinner we lighted cigars, and continued to sit smoking over our coffee, having drawn the curtains of our alcove. We had been puffing away for some minutes when Torrence, putting his hand in his pocket drew out the money I had given him in the morning, together with his own, and placing the pile upon the table, said: "Now listen! We will divide this money into two equal parts, and each take our part. There is no telling what may become of us, and it is better to seek our fortunes separately than together. If we travel the same path, we will meet the some difficulties, but if we divide, there will be double the chance for luck, and whoever hits it first can help the other. It will cost no more than to live under the same roof, with the exception of having paid in advance for our beds, but other considerations will more than compensate for that loss, which may not be a loss after all. We may see a very tough time before we get through, but we will get through in the end, never fear. Now don’t starve yourself, old man, and don’t get down in the mouth, but dig—dig—dig. Push your manuscript—push a hand car—jump into anything you see, but don’t be discouraged, and above all things, write regularly and keep me posted."