In this connection I thought of Belle Treherne, and of how I should appear in her eyes if that little scene with Mrs.Falchion, now always staring me in the face, were rehearsed before her.

I came quickly to my feet, with a half-imprecation at myself; and a verse of a crude sea-song was in my ears: "You can batten down cargo, live and dead, But you can't put memory out of sight; You can paint the full sails overhead, But you can't make a black deed white...." Angry, I said to myself: "It wasn't a black deed; it was foolish, it was infatuation, it was not right, but it is common to shipboard; and I lost my head, that was all." Some time later I was still at work in the dispensary, when I heard Mr.
Treherne's voice calling to me from outside.

I drew back the curtain.

He was leaning on his daughter's arm, while in one hand he carried a stick.
"Ah, Doctor, Doctor," cried he, "my old enemy, sciatica, has me in its grip, and why, in this warm climate, I can't understand.

I'm afraid I shall have to heave-to, like the 'Fulvia', and lay up for repairs.