longer, walking on deck like peaceful citizens taking an evening stroll in their town squares.
The place seemed deserted. Soon, however, our eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and we perceived a man leaning perfectly motionless, with his elbow on the railing. Corsican, after looking at him attentively for some time, said to me,—
"It is Fabian."
It was indeed Fabian. We recognized him, but absorbed as he was in a profound contemplation he did not see us. His eyes were fixed on an angle of the upper deck; I saw them gleam in the dark. What was he looking at? How could he pierce this black gloom? I thought it better to leave him to his reflections, but Captain Corsican went up to him.
"Fabian," said he.
Fabian did not answer; he had not heard. Again Corsican called him. He shuddered, and turned his head for a moment, saying,—
"Hush."
Then with his hand he pointed to a shadow which was slowly moving at the further end of the upper deck. It was this almost invisible figure that Fabian was looking at, and smiling sadly he murmured,—
"The black lady."
I shuddered. Captain Corsican took hold of my arm,
