“Save by an occasional question, the silence of the listeners had been unbroken from the start. The subject had been profoundly discussed, and as the hour was growing late, it was agreed that the party meet at once after dinner on the following evening. All faces now looked serious. The captain thanked the stranger, and said, ‘We met to scoff, we remained in rapt attention, we retire to meditate. To-morrow evening,’ said he, ‘we will question you, our worthy guest, with a different feeling. Good night.’
“What a unique experience! How I would like to have had Sir Marmaduke with us. But Sir Marmaduke thinks I am a thief and unworthy of his presence.
“Well, goodbye old day,
I’ll throw me down and sleep my cares away.”
By George! that is striking. The man from “Symmes’ Hole.” Ha! Ha! Well, I wish I had been there. But Leo Bergin does me an injustice, for I was too careless to think about his crime, or alleged crime, for, as a fact, I liked him when I met him, and in his absence, I never thought either of him or his folly.
“What fools we mortals be!” We are eternally worrying about what others think of us, when, in fact, each of all the “others” is quite engaged with his or her own affairs. What “everybody says” is usually only what some idle meddler says, the busy world having no thought or care on the matter. But Leo Bergin thought of me, well—
“I’d give the lands of Deloraine,
If Musgrove were alive again.”
But,—“Never, never more.”
Let us see what follows, for this is more interesting far, than a courtship. Let’s see—the next day I left the ship at Lisbon, in response to mail from Hamburg. Let’s see if I am forgotten as easily as he was, and what the man from Symmes’ Hole had to say at the adjourned meeting. By my soul, this is rich! The notes read:—
“At sea, on board S.S. Irene,
“Off coast of Portugal,
“October 7th, 1898.