CHAPTER V.
DISSECTING A MOTIVE.
Onward went the ship, nodding to the beck and call of mighty ocean.
DeGolyer--or, rather, Henry Witherspoon, as now he knew himself--walked up and down the deck.

And it seemed that at every turn his searching grief had found a new abiding-place for sorrow.

His first strong attachment was broken, and he felt that in the years to come, no matter what fortune they might bring him, there could not grow a friendship large enough to fill the place made vacant by his present loss.

An absorbing love might come, but love is by turns a sweet and anxious selfishness, while friendship is a broad-spread generosity.

Suddenly he was struck by the serious meaning of his obligation, and with stern vivisection he laid bare the very nerves of his motive.