deal about what he called psychology, and he amused himself by watching the people about him. He believed he possessed considerable insight into character, and he had no doubt of his ability to find, after a few hours’ conversation, the formula, to use an expression of which he was fond, of the people he was studying. I will not go so far as to say that he set down his observations in writing, but it would have been in character. When he had given orders to everybody and supervised the working of the ship, a long day remained ahead of him which it was necessary to fill. So the passenger furnished him with a precious diversion. He considered himself fortunate in having him on board, exactly as a geometrician rubs his hands in anticipation before a difficult problem. When he came to think of it, he liked those cold ways, that silence which had irritated him at first, and that reserve which, taking it all in all, prolonged the game and rendered it more interesting.

Meanwhile, the traveller seemed resolved to remain silent. It was evident that the inquisitive looks of the captain displeased him and that he considered the meal hours excessively disagreeable; but he tried to conceal his feelings, and what he revealed was only in spite of himself. If the captain had been as observing as he considered himself, he would surely have guessed that the traveller was afraid of him; but he was following another line of thought and he believed that he was dealing merely with a misanthropic and proud man. Pleased with his discovery, he was at present taxing his ingenuity to ask adroit questions which would flatter the traveller in his vanity and at the same time lead him to confidences concerning himself. These tactics failed, however, just as the captain’s brusque manner and precise questions had failed in the first place. The traveller said nothing; the only result was that, when the captain became too insistent, he lowered his head, as one lowers one’s head before a squall.

Now the sky was clear and the Bonne Espérance seemed to be making better time. The air was mild. Silence reigned, scarcely interrupted by the murmur of the waves as they spread out on either side of the boat’s prow. But the traveller did not leave his cabin. There only he seemed at ease. One would have said that he had everything to fear outside that little room, and that, once across the threshold, his life was in danger. Occasionally sailors passing on the deck saw at one of the portholes a white face with a hesitant expression. Suddenly frightened, it disappeared immediately.

Faced with the passenger’s silence, the captain remained at first taken aback; then he became angry. He had invited this man to his table, he had talked frankly to him as to a friend, an old friend, he had even confided to him several facts concerning his private life; and he had obtained nothing at all in return. Of course, it is interesting to fathom the secrets of a taciturn person by resorting to nothing more than observation and intelligence, but after almost three weeks the captain had had enough. There was something repelling in the passenger’s morose face, and his silence was no longer interesting.

IV

The voyage was drawing to its close. Already a seagull, harbinger of approaching land, had alighted on the deck of the boat, only to set off again with the heavy flight of his long curved wings. One day, when the captain rose from the table, he planted himself before his guest, who had said nothing since the beginning of the meal. He raised himself on his toes and fell back again on his heels.

‘You know, we arrive the day after to-morrow,’ he said.

The man raised his head. The captain’s severe expression doubtless frightened him. He made a sort of grimace, took off his glasses, and answered in a voice which was scarcely audible:

‘I know.’

He seemed so dejected that the captain’s irritation gave way before an impulse of compassion.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Suger, after a moment. ‘You’re not ill?’

The man shook his head.