I saw little of Simon Colliver before starting, though he came twice, as I heard, to the 'Welcome Home' to inquire for me, and each time found me absent.

On board, however, being the only other passenger, I was naturally thrown much into his society, and confess that I found him a most diverting companion.

Often of a clear moonlight night would we pace the deck together, or watch in a darker sky the innumerable stars, on which Colliver had an amazing amount of information.
Sometimes, too, he would sing--quaint songs which I had never heard before, to airs which I suspect, without well knowing why, were of his own composition.

His voice was of large compass--a silvery tenor of surpassing' purity and sweetness, inasmuch as I have seen the sailors stand spellbound, and even with tears in their eyes, at some sweet song of love and home.

Often, again, the words would be weird and mysterious, but the voice was always delicious whether he spoke or sang.