"It is too marvelous. You astound me! I cannot comprehend it!" said Torrence in a voice that was scarcely audible, and which I observed was purposely subdued.
"And indeed you may well be all o' that, an' more too. I was good crazy for a spell when I first found it out, leastways I was nigh it, but I don't talk about it no more since they locked me up, but when I heerd you fellers a gassin' about a air ship, I 'lowed you was the kind, if ever there was any, as it wouldn't hurt to tell. For my part, it don't matter—I can't live long no way—and I hate to have that secret die with me. I'm a stoppin' down the river on the Kangaroo, she's a boat as is fitted up as a 'orspital for crippled seamen and the like. I'm tullable comfortable thar, and doubt as I'll ever anchor to any other craft for a home this side o' Davy Jones'."
"But surely you'll let me see you again," said Torrence, as the man made a move to leave the boat at the landing we were approaching.
"Course'n I will. I won't forgit ye," tapping his breast as if referring to a memorandum which I supposed Torrence had given him. "And I'll keep my word, too, and prove every breath I've done breathed to you to-night. Ta-ta!"
The man left the boat hurriedly, and the next landing was our own.
III.
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?"