Once more the open sea--the sea whose waters break on the shoresof Newfoundland! An English steamship lies at anchor in theoffing. The vessel is plainly visible through the open doorway ofa large boat-house on the shore--one of the buildings attached toa fishing-station on the coast of the island.

The only person in the boat-house at this moment is a man in thedress of a sailor. He is seated on a chest, with a piece of cordin his hand, looking out idly at the sea. On the roughcarpenter's table near him lies a strange object to be left insuch a place--a woman's veil.

What is the vessel lying at anchor in the offing?

The vessel is the _Amazon_--dispatched from England to receivethe surviving officers and men of the Arctic Expedition. Themeeting has been successfully effected, on the shores of NorthAmerica, three days since. But the homeward voyage has beendelayed by a storm which has driven the ship out of her course.Taking advantage, on the third day, of the first returning calm,the commander of the _Amazon_ has anchored off the coast ofNewfoundland, and has sent ashore to increase his supplies ofwater before he sails for England. The weary passengers havelanded for a few hours, to refresh themselves after thediscomforts of the tempest. Among them are the two ladies. Theveil left on the table in the boat-house is Clara's veil.

And who is the man si tting on the chest, with the cord in hishand, looking out idly at the sea? The man is the only cheerfulperson in the ship's company. In other words--John Want.

Still reposing on the chest, our friend, who never grumbles, issurprised by the sudden appearance of a sailor at the boat-housedoor.

"Look sharp with your work there, John Want!" says the sailor."Lieutenant Crayford is just coming in to look after you."

With this warning the messenger disappears again. John Want riseswith a groan, turns the chest up on one end, and begins to fastenthe cord round it. The ship's cook is not a man to look back onhis rescue with the feeling of unmitigated satisfaction whichanimates his companions in trouble. On the contrary, he isungratefully disposed to regret the North Pole.

"If I had only known"--thus runs the train of thought in the mindof John Want--"if I had only known, before I was rescued, that Iwas to be brought to this place, I believe I should havepreferred staying at the North Pole. I was very happy keeping upeverybody's spirits at the North Pole. Taking one thing withanother, I think I must have been very comfortable at the NorthPole--if I had only known it. Another man in my place might beinclined to say that this Newfoundland boat-house was rather asloppy, slimy, draughty, fishy sort of a habitation to takeshelter in. Another man might object to perpetual Newfoundlandfogs, perpetual Newfoundland cod-fish, and perpetual Newfoundlanddogs. We had some very nice bears at the North Pole. Never mind!it's all one to me--_I_ don't grumble."

"Have you done cording that box?"

This time the voice is a voice of authority--the man at thedoorway is Lieutenant Crayford himself. John Want answers hisofficer in his own cheerful way.

"I've done it as well as I can, sir--but the damp of this placeis beginning to tell upon our very ropes. I say nothing about ourlungs--I only say our ropes."

Crayford answers sharply. He seems to have lost his former relishfor the humor of John Want.

"Pooh! To look at your wry face, one would think that our rescuefrom the Arctic regions was a downright misfortune. You deserveto be sent back again."

"I could be just as cheerful as ever, sir, if I _was_ sent backagain; I hope I'm thankful; but I don't like to hear the NorthPole run down in such a fishy place as this. It was very cleanand snowy at the North Pole--and it's very damp and sandy here.Do you never miss your bone-soup, sir? _I_ do. It mightn't havebeen strong; but it was very hot; and the cold seemed to give ita kind of a meaty flavor as it went down. Was it you that wasa-coughing so long last night, sir? I don't presume to sayanything against the air of these latitudes; but I should be gladto know it wasn't you that was a-coughing so hollow. Would you beso obliging as just to feel the state of these ropes with theends of your fingers, sir? You can dry them afterward on the backof my jacket."

"You ought to have a stick laid on the back of your jacket. Takethat box down to the boat directly. You croaking vagabond! Youwould have grumbled in the Garden of Eden."

The philosopher of the Expedition was not a man to be silenced byreferring him to the Garden of Eden. Paradise itself was notperfect to John Want.

"I hope I could be cheerful anywhere, sir," said the ship's cook."But you mark my words--there must have been a deal oftroublesome work with the flower-beds in the Garden of Eden."

Having entered that unanswerable protest, John Want shoulderedthe box, and drifted drearily out of the boat-house.

Left by himself, Crayford looked at his watch, and called to asailor outside.

"Where are the ladies?" he asked.

"Mrs. Crayford is coming this way, sir. She was just behind youwhen you came in."

"Is Miss Burnham with her?"

"No, sir; Miss Burnham is down on the beach with the passengers.I heard the young lady asking after you, sir."

"Asking after me?" Crayford considered with himself as herepeated the words. He added, in lower and graver tones, "You hadbetter tell Miss Burnham you have seen me here."

The man made his salute and went out. Crayford took a turn in theboat-house.

Rescued from death in the Arctic wastes, and reunited to abeautiful wife, the lieutenant looked, nevertheless,unaccountably anxious and depressed. What could he be thinkingof? He was thinking of Clara.

On the first day when the rescued men were received on board the_Amazon_, Clara had embarrassed and distressed, not Crayfordonly, but the other officers of the Expedition as well, by themanner in which she questioned them on the subject of FrancisAldersley and Richard Wardour. She had shown no signs of dismayor despair when she heard that no news had been received of thetwo missing men. She had even smiled sadly to herself, whenCrayford (out of compassionate regard for her) declared that heand his comrades had not given up the hope of seeing Frank andWardour yet. It was only when the lieutenant had expressedhimself in those terms and when it was hoped that the painfulsubject had been dismissed--that Clara had startled every onepresent by announcing that she had something still to say inrelation to Frank and Wardour, which had not been said yet.Though she spoke guardedly, her next words revealed suspicions offoul play lurking in her mind--exactly reflecting similarsuspicions lurking in Crayford's mind--which so distressed thelieutenant, and so surprised his comrades, as to render themquite incapable of answering her. The warnings of the storm whichshortly afterward broke over the vessel were then visible in seaand sky. Crayford made them his excuse for abruptly leaving thecabin in which the conversation had taken place. His brotherofficers, profiting by his example, pleaded their duties on deck,and followed him out.

On the next day, and the next, the tempest still raged--and thepassengers were not able to leave their state-rooms. But now,when the weather had moderated and the ship had anchored--now,when officers and passengers alike were on shore, with leisuretime at their disposal--Clara had opportunities of returning tothe subject of the lost men, and of asking questions in relationto them which would make it impossible for Crayford to plead anexcuse for not answering her. How was he to meet those questions?How could he still keep her in ignorance of the truth?

These were the reflections which now troubled Crayford, and whichpresented him, after his rescue, in the strangely inappropriatecharacter of a depressed and anxious man. His brother officers,as he well knew, looked to him to take the chief responsibility.If he declined to accept it, he would instantly confirm thehorrible suspicion in Clara's mind. The emergency must be met;but how to meet it--at once honorably and mercifully--was morethan Crayford could tell. He was still lost in his own gloomythoughts when his wife entered the boat-house. Turning to look ather, he saw his own perturbations and anxieties plainly reflectedin Mrs. Crayford's face.

"Have you seen anything of Clara?" he asked. "Is she still on thebeach?"

"She is following me to this place," Mrs. Crayford replied. "Ihave been speaking to her this morning. She is just as resoluteas ever to insist on your telling her of the circumstances underwhich Frank is missing. As things are, you have no alternativebut to answer her."

"Help me to answer her, Lucy. Tell me, before she comes in, howthis dreadful suspicion first took possession of her. All shecould possibly have known when we left England was that the twomen were appointed to separate ships. What could have led her tosuspect that they had come together?"

"She was firmly persuaded, William, that they _would_ cometogether when the Expedition left England. And she had read inbooks of Arctic travel, of men left behind by their comrades onthe march, and of men adrift on ice-bergs. With her mind full ofthese images and forebodings, she saw Frank and Wardour (ordreamed of them) in one of her attacks of trance. I was by herside; I heard what she said at the time. She warned Frank thatWardour had discovered the truth. She called out to him, 'Whileyou can stand, keep with the other men, Frank!"

"Good God!" cried Crayford; "I warned him myself, almost in thosevery words, the last time I saw him!"

"Don't acknowledge it, William! Keep her in ignorance of what youhave just told me. She will not take it for what it is--astartling coincidence, and nothing more. She will accept it aspositive confirmation of the faith, the miserable superstitiousfaith, that is in her. So long as you don't actually know thatFrank is dead, and that he has died by Wardour's hand, deny whatshe says--mislead her for her own sake--dispute all herconclusions as I dispute them. Help me to raise her to the betterand nobler belief in the mercy of God!" She stopped, and lookedround nervously at the doorway. "Hush!" she whispered. "Do as Ihave told you. Clara is here."