"The wind sets us to the east."
"Don't go to the east."
"Why not?"
"Skipper, do you know what is for us the word of death?"
"No."
"Death is the east."
"I'll steer west."
This time the doctor, having turned right round, looked the skipper full in the face, and with his eyes resting on him, as though to implant the idea in his head, pronounced slowly, syllable by syllable, these words,—
"If to-night out at sea we hear the sound of a bell, the ship is lost."
The skipper pondered in amaze.