Christobal threw out his hands in a despairing gesture. "I tried to

stop him, but I failed," he cried.

"Courtenay is a hard man to stop," said Tollemache, vanishing down the

companion. The Spaniard was left alone on the bridge. He paced to and

fro, deep in thought. He scarce dared probe his own communings. So

complex were they, such a queer amalgam of noble fear and base

expectation, that he could have cried aloud in his anguish. Big drops

of perspiration stood on his forehead when Courtenay came to him.

"For God's sake, don't go," said he hoarsely. "Do you know you are

placing me on the rack?"

"Your sufferings are of your own contriving, then. Why, man, there is

no reason for all this agony. I have written to Elsie, briefly

explaining matters. Here is the letter. Give it to her, if I don't

return. And now, pull yourself together. I want you to cheer her.

Above all things, don't let her know I am leaving the ship. I'll just

swing myself overboard at the last moment. I can't say good-by. I

don't think I could stand that."




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