was in truth only of that ordinary kind, and that there was no actual existence to that great calamity, that ancient tragedy, to which she was bound and from which she had fled. Every thought she expressed, every occasion she alluded to, was as though she were pinching her-self to make certain she was awake and that the dreadful nightmare had passed away...

"The weather grew rougher, and I did not see them again that day. The violence of the storm redoubled, until no one found any pleasure in the sea voyage. Indeed, one could no longer even sleep, though storms usually plunge me into slumber. Should sleep touch your eyes for a single moment of the night, you would be wakened at once by the sound of doors opening and slamming and colliding, or wakened by a strange sensation that the soul itself — that inner self around which the body is built — had shifted a little from its seat... The passengers asked themselves, as is their habit on a sea voyage: 'Why did I make this trip?' But I felt only one feel-ing, a feeling I have often known on the Atlantic — though I have made many crossings of it that could not be avoided — and that feeling is terror. It was not sea-sickness that overcame me; rather I felt terror of those cold valleys in the depths of the waters beneath the sea's surface, those endless winding valleys which, we are told, equal in their depth the mountains of the land in their height... And by the way (forgive me for cutting the thread of my story), has not the weather grown rougher since

we began our talk — or is that only a fancy of my imagination?"

I was obliged to admit that the weather had changed, for the ship had begun to lurch unexpectedly.

"I thought as much," he said, and paused a moment; then he went on: "At any rate the Canal will be calm... But to continue my story. Fortunately I was to leave the ship at Madeira, and it was only a two days' journey away. But how I longed for it during those two days — that exquisite pearl set in the middle of the ocean, beneath the canopy of Atlantic cloud.

"The next day was so exceedingly bad that one no longer cared about anything — not food, nor drink, nor sleep, nor the passengers; yet I noticed, all the same, that Mr. Rofni sat down to luncheon alone... The following morning the storm seemed to have quieted a little, and while walking about the deck I met him.

"I cried with a false heartiness: 'Good morning! How are you this morning?... I am sorry to see you alone.'

"He replied: 'Yes, it is a worrying thing. How I wished the weather would be kind... We are drawing near Madeira now, and the weather ought not to be like this... I confess to you, it troubles me... Not because my wife is unused to sea travel — she feels no seasick-ness now — but the truth is that terror takes hold of her on a ship!'

"I said: 'There is nothing shameful in that; I too am terrified... and I believe a very great many people are as well — if they confessed the truth!'

"He answered: 'That may be true... But the matter is different with her: her last sea voyage was on the Titanic. Her twin brother went down with that ship, and she her-self was saved only by a miracle... For many years she refused to set foot on a ship's deck at all — she even refused to make the English Channel crossing, which takes but a single hour, though before that she had been very fond of Paris... And I will tell you a strange thing: the sea may be calm, perfectly calm, but no sooner does she set foot on a ship's deck than the storm begins — a beginning about which there is no doubt. I have seen it happen in the English Channel dozens of times, so that I often wished to persuade her to change her mind and come with me, even for that short distance... I ought to have forbidden this absolutely, from the very start... But she was anxious about me — I had been ill a long time, and those cursed doctors said a long sea voyage was the one thing that would restore my health — so she pleaded and insisted. And I could not prevent her; it seemed as though it were fated that she should come, terrified of it though she was — if you understand what I mean...'

"So that was the secret! No wonder, then, that she was terrified, even on the shallowest of waters. I remembered that splen-did ship on her maiden voyage, and I remembered the playing hands, and the sudden, dreadful collision, and the all-embracing stillness when the winds of destruction reached her; then I remembered