“But！——“
　　“No！”shesaid。
　　“Well，haveyourway。”
　　Soshecarriedherpoint，andwewanderedintothenighttogetherandBeatricetalkedtomeoflove。
　　I’dneverheardawomanbeforeinallmylifewhocouldtalkoflove，whocouldlaybareanddevelopandtouchwithimaginationallthatmassoffineemotioneverywoman，itmaybe，hides。Shehadreadoflove，shehadthoughtoflove，athousandsweetlyricshadsoundedthroughherbrainandleftfinefragmentsinhermemory；shepoureditout，allofit，shamelessly，skilfully，forme。Icannotgiveanysenseofthattalk，Icannoteventellhowmuchofthedelightofitwasthemagicofhervoice，theglowofhernearpresence。Andalwayswewalkedswathedwarmlythroughachillyair，alongdim，interminablegreasyroads——withneverasoulabroaditseemedtous，neverabeastinthefields。
　　“Whydopeopleloveeachother？”Isaid。
　　“Whynot？”
　　“ButwhydoIloveyou？Whyisyourvoicebetterthananyvoice，yourfacesweeterthananyface？”
　　“AndwhydoIloveyou？”sheasked；“notonlywhatisfineinyou，butwhatisn’t？WhydoIloveyourdullness，yourarrogance？ForIdo。To——nightIlovetheveryraindropsonthefurofyourcoat！”。
　　Sowetalked；andatlastverywet，stillglowingbutalittletired，wepartedatthegardendoor。Wehadbeenwanderingfortwohoursinourstrangeirrationalcommunityofhappiness，andalltheworldaboutus，andparticularlyLadyOspreyandherhousehold，hadbeenasleep——anddreamingofanythingratherthanBeatriceinthenightandrain。
　　Shestoodinthedoorway，amuffledfigurewitheyesthatglowed。
　　“Comeback。”shewhispered。“Ishallwaitforyou。”
　　Shehesitated。
　　Shetouchedthelapelofmycoat。“IloveyouNOW。”shesaid，andliftedherfacetomine。
　　Iheldhertomeandwasatremblefromtoptotoe。“OGod！”I
　　cried。“AndImustgo！”
　　Sheslippedfrommyarmsandpaused，regardingme。Foraninstanttheworldseemedfulloffantasticpossibilities。
　　“Yes，GO！”shesaid，andvanishedandslammedthedooruponme，leavingmealonelikeamannewfallenfromfairylandintheblackdarknessofthenight。
　　ThatexpeditiontoMordetIslandstandsapartfromalltherestofmylife，detached，apiecebyitselfwithanatmosphereofitsown。Itwould，Isuppose，makeabookbyitself——ithasmadeafairlyvoluminousofficialreport——butsofarasthisnovelofminegoesitismerelyanepisode，acontributoryexperience，andImeantokeepitatthat。
　　Vileweather，animpatientfrettingagainstunbearableslownessanddelay，sea——sickness，generaldiscomfortandhumiliatingself——revelationarethemastervaluesofthesememories。
　　Iwassickallthroughthejourneyout。Idon’tknowwhy。ItwastheonlytimeIwaseversea-sick，andIhaveseensomeprettybadweathersinceIbecameaboat-builder。Butthatphantomsmellofpotatoeswaspeculiarlyviletome。Comingbackonthebrigwewereallill，everyoneofus，sosoonaswegottosea，poisoned，Ifirmlybelieve，byquap。Onthewayoutmostoftheothersrecoveredinafewdays，butthestuffinessbelow，thecoarsefood，thecrampeddirtyaccommodationkeptme，ifnotactuallysea-sick，inastateofacutephysicalwretchednessthewholetime。Theshipaboundedincockroachesandmoreintimatevermin。IwascoldallthetimeuntilafterwepassedCapeVerde，thenIbecamesteamilyhot；IhadbeentoopreoccupiedwithBeatriceandmykeendesiretogettheMaudMaryunderwayatonce，toconsideraproperwardrobeformyself，andinparticularIlackedacoat。Heavens！howIlackedthatcoat！
　　And，moreover，IwascoopedupwithtwooftheworstboresinChristendom，Pollackandthecaptain。Pollack，afterconductinghisillnessinastylebetteradaptedtothecapacityofanoperahousethanasmallcompartment，suddenlygotinsupportablywellandbreezy，andproducedamanlypipeinwhichhesmokedatobaccoasblondashimself，anddividedhistimealmostequallybetweensmokingitandtryingtocleanit。“There’sonlythreethingsyoucancleanapipewith。”heusedtoremarkwithatwistofpaperinhand。“Thebest’safeather，thesecond’sastraw，andthethird’sagirl’shairpin。Ineverseesuchaship。Youcan’tfindanyof’em。LasttimeIcamethiswayIdidfindhairpinsanyway，andfound’emonthefloorofthecaptain’scabin。Regulardeposit。Eh？。Feelin’better？”
　　AtwhichIusuallyswore。
　　“Oh，you’llbeallrightsoon。Don’tmindmypuffin’abit？
　　Eh？”
　　Henevertiredofaskingmeto“haveahandatNap。Goodgame。
　　Makesyouforgetit，andthat’shalfthebattle。”
　　Hewouldsitswayingwiththerollingoftheshipandsuckathispipeofblondtobaccoandlookwithaninexpressiblysagebutsomnolentblueeyeatthecaptainbythehourtogether。
　　“Captain’saCard。”hewouldsayoverandoveragainastheoutcomeofthesemeditations。“He’dliketoknowwhatwe’reupto。He’dliketoknow——noend。”
　　Thatdidseemtobethecaptain’srulingidea。ButhealsowantedtoimpressmewiththenotionthathewasagentlemanofgoodfamilyandtoairanumberofviewsadversetotheEnglish，toEnglishliterature，totheEnglishconstitution，andthelike。
　　HehadlearnttheseaintheRoumaniannavy，andEnglishoutofabook；hewouldstillattimespronouncethee’sattheendof“there“and“here“；hewasanaturalisedEnglishman，andhedrovemeintoareluctantanduncongenialpatriotismbyhiseverlastingcarpingatthingsEnglish。Pollackwouldsethimselfto“drawhimout。”HeavenalonecantellhownearIcametomurder。
　　Fifty-threedaysIhadoutward，coopedupwiththesetwoandashyandprofoundlydepressedmatewhoreadtheBibleonSundaysandspenttherestofhisleisureinlethargy，threeandfiftydaysoflifecoopedupinaperpetualsmell，inapersistentsickhungerthatturnedfromthesightoffood，indarkness，coldandwet，inalightlyballastedshipthatrolledandpitchedandswayed。Andallthetimethesandsinthehour-glassofmyuncle’sfortuneswerestreamingout。Misery！AmidstitallI
　　rememberonlyonethingbrightly，onemorningofsunshineintheBayofBiscayandavisionoffrothingwaves，sapphiregreen，abirdfollowingourwakeandourmastsrollingaboutthesky。
　　Thenwindandraincloseinonusagain。
　　Youmustnotimaginetheywereordinarydays，days，Imean，ofanaveragelength；theywerenotsomuchdaysaslongdampslabsoftimethatstretchedeachonetothehorizon，andmuchofthatlengthwasnight。Oneparadedthestaggeringdeckinaborrowedsou’-westerhourafterhourinthechilly，windy，splashingandspittingdarkness，orsatinthecabin，boredandill，andlookedatthefacesofthoseinseparablecompanionsbythehelpofalampthatgavesmellratherthanlight。Thenonewouldseegoingup，up，up，andthensinkingdown，down，down，Pollack，extinctpipeinmouth，humorouslyobservant，bringinghismindslowlytotheseventy-seventhdecisionthatthecaptainwasaCard，whilethewordsflowedfromthelatterinanimbleincessantgood。“DisEnglandeetisnotacountryaristocratic，no！Eetisaglorifiedbourgeoisie！Eetisplutocratic。InEnglanddereisnoaristocracysincedeWarsofRoses。IntherestofEuropeeastoftheLatins，yes；inEngland，no。
　　“Eetisallmiddle-class，youraEngland。Everythingyoulookat，middle-class。Respectable！Everythinggood——eetis，yousay，shocking。MadameGrundy！Eetisalllimitedandcomputingandself-seeking。Datiswhyyourartissolimited，yourafiction，yourphilosophin，whyyouareallsoinartistic。Youwantnothingbutprofit！Whatwillpay！Whatwouldyou？”。
　　HehadallthoseviolentadjunctstospeechweWesternEuropeanshaveabandoned，shruggingsoftheshoulders，wavingofthearms，thrustingoutoftheface，wonderfulgrimacesandtwiddlingsofthehandsunderyournoseuntilyouwantedtohitthemaway。Dayafterdayitwenton，andIhadtokeepanyangertomyself，toreservemyselfforthetimeaheadwhenitwouldbenecessarytoseethequapwasgotaboardandstowed——kneedeepinthisman’sastonishment。Iknewhewouldmakeathousandobjectionstoallwehadbeforeus。Hetalkedlikeadruggedman。Itrangliblyoverhistongue。Andallthetimeonecouldseehisseamanshipfrettinghim，hewasgnawedbyresponsibility，perpetuallyuneasyabouttheship’sposition，perpetuallyimaginingdangers。
　　Ifaseahitusexceptionallyhardhe’dbeoutofthecabininaninstantmakinganoutcryofinquiries，andhewaspursuedbyadreadofthehold，ofballastshifting，ofinsidiouswickedleaks。AswedrewneartheAfricancoasthisfearofrocksandshoalsbecameinfectious。
　　“Idonotknowdiscoast。”heusedtosay。“IcamaherabecauseGordon-Nasmythwascomingtoo。Denhedoesnotcome！”
　　“Fortunesofwar。”Isaid，andtriedtothinkinvainifanymotivebutsheerhaphazardcouldhaveguidedGordon-Nasmythinthechoiceofthesetwomen。IthinkperhapsGordon-Nasmythhadtheartistictemperamentandwantedcontrasts，andalsothatthecaptainhelpedhimtoexpresshisownmalignantAnti-Britishism。
　　Hewasindeedanexceptionallyinefficientcaptain。OnthewholeIwasgladIhadcomeevenattheeleventhhourtoseetothings。
　　Thecaptain，by-the-by，didatlast，outofsheernervousness，getagroundattheendofMordet’sIsland，butwegotoffinanhourorsowithaswellandalittlehardworkintheboat。