Hartley Brandon was not a brave man. He was disposed to bully and threaten, when he thought he could do it with safety; but when he was opposed in an intrepid and fearless manner, his tone became milder and he lowered his pretensions. So, in the present case, it startled him to be told that, in failing to take means for the rescue of Harry, he had been accessory to a murder, and he began to have undefined apprehensions of the possible consequences of his neglect. He thought it best to exculpate himself.
“Walk in, Mr. Weldon, and sit down,” he said. “We will talk this matter over. You don’t understand all the circumstances.”
“I hope I do not, Captain Brandon,” said the young man, gravely. “I do not wish to think so ill of you as I fear I must.”
“The boy carelessly fell overboard,” commenced the captain.
“Are you sure he fell?” asked the supercargo, significantly.
“Of course he fell. How else could it be? I don’t understand you.”
“It seems strange that he should be so careless.”
“That’s the way of it. He didn’t deserve to be helped. Can I be expected to stop my ship every time a careless boy takes a notion to fall overboard?”
“When a human life is in jeopardy, Captain Brandon, our duty is to save it if we can. I don’t envy the man who at such a time can stop to inquire whether the danger is the result of carelessness or not.”