The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1900-07-01

As the cable was hauled in and the usu-
al cheering passed between tug and ship,
Skrimshire unclenched his teeth and gave
tongue with a gusto as cynical as it was
sincere. Il had just come home to him
that this was the last link with land. and
he beheld 1t broken with ineifable relief.
Tuskar Rock was already little thing
!astern; the Australian coast lay the width
of the world away; the captain did not
expect even to sight any other, and had
assured Skrimshire that the average pas
sage was not less than ninety days. So.
whatever was 10 happen in the end, he had
three months more OF life. and of such
liberty as sailing ship affords.
He descended to his cabin. locked him
self In, and lay down TO read what tina
newspapers had to say about the murder.
II seemed strange to Skrimshre that this
was the first opportunity he had had Of
reading up his own crime; but the pecul-
lar circumstances Of his departure had for
hidden him many last pleasure ashore.
and he was only too glad to have the pa
pers TO read now and a stateroom to him
. self In which to read them. There was a
heavy sea running. and Skrimshire was n,
sailor: but he would not have been without
the motion, even Its effects upon him
self Both were an incessant reminder that
his cabin was not prison cell. and could
not turn into one for three months at all
events Besides, he was not the man to
surrender to malady which is largely
nervous. So he lay occupied In his berth;
medium-sized, dark-skinned. neither young
nor middle aged; only respectfully dressed,
and with salient Jaw unsharen since the
thing OF which he read without a flicker OF
the heavy eyelids or O tremor OF the hairy
hands.
date: the crime was worthily reported In
them all; one or Two had leaders on its pc
cuiiar atrocity- Skrimshire fighei when
be came TO the end: 1t was hard that he
could SEQ no more papers for three months.
The egotism OF the criminal was excited
within him. /. was lucky he was no long
er on land: he would have run any risk
for the evening papers His very anonymi-
~ as author OF the trasedy-the thing to
which he owed his temporary security
was a certain irritation to him. He was
rot ashamed Of what he had done. II read
wonderfully and was already admitted TO
have shown that diabolical cleverress and
nudacity for which Skrimshire alone de-
served the crtdit: yet it looked though
no MOnlu never get III. ] nus lar. III ItdSl.
st was plain that there was not shred
Of evidence against him. or against any
person upon earth. He sighed again;
Hmiled al himself for signing: and. closing
his eyes for the first time since the muir
der. slept like a baby for several hours.
Skriu,shire was the only passenger in
the saloon. Of which he presently became
the life and soul. Al the first meal he
yielded 10 the temptation OF n casual allu-
Bion to the murder on the Caiedoniar Rail-
way; but though they had heard of 1t,
neither captain nor officers showed much
interest in the subject, which Skri,nshire
dropped with a show of equal indifference.
And this was his last weakness of the
kind He threw his newspapers overheard,
and conquered the morbid vanity they had
Inspired by superb effort of the will Re-
horse he had none. and for three months
pertain he was absolutely safe. So he de-
.errninod to enjoy himself meanwhile; and,
in doing so. being dominant persona ty,
DO managed 10 diffnse considerable enjoy
nent throughout the ship.
This man was not a gentleman in either
The widest or the nsrrowest sense of that
nvidious term. He wore cheap jewelry, 1
fheap tweeds as yellow as his boots. pa
per collars. and shirts OF n brilliant hue |
He spoke with a Cockney intonation which. |
ln Scottish vessel. grated more or less |
Upon every ear. But he had funds OF in |
formation and Of anecdote as inexhausti- |
Die as his energy. and as entertaining as |
his rough good humor He took a lively |
interest In every incident OF the voyage, |
Ind was az ready to go aloft in gale OF |
Wind ~ TO make up q rubber In any part |