"Drake!" cried I, "but that man is on board."
"He here!" exclaimed Corsican, seizing my hand, and looking straight at me.
"Yes," I replied, "he is on board."
"Heaven grant that they may not meet!" said the Captain gravely. "Happily they do not know each other, at least Fabian does not know Harry Drake; but that name uttered in his hearing would be enough to cause an outburst."
I then related to Captain Corsican what I knew of Harry Drake, that is to say, what Dr. Dean Pitferge had told me of him. I described him such as he was, an insolent, noisy adventurer, already ruined by gambling, and other vices, and ready to do anything to get money; at this moment Harry Drake passed close to us; I pointed him out to the Captain, whose eyes suddenly grew animated, and he made an angry gesture, which I arrested.
"Yes," said he, "there is the face of a villain. But where is he going?"
"To America, they say, to try and get by chance what he does not care to work for."
"Poor Ellen!" murmured the Captain; "where is she now?"
"Perhaps this wretch has abandoned her, or why should she not be on board?" said Corsican, looking at me.
This idea crossed my mind for the first time, but I re-
