"He said that, boatswain; he spoke of the Grampus?" I exclaimed.
"Yes—of the Grampus!"
"And of Ned Holt?"
"Precisely, Mr. Jeorling!"
"And what answer did Martin Holt make?"
"He replied: 'I don't even know under what circumstances my unfortunate brother perished. Was it during a revolt on board? Brave man that he was, he would not betray his captain, and perhaps he was massacred."
"Did Hearne dwell on this, boatswain?"
"Yes, but he added: 'It is very sad for you, Master Holt! The captain of the Grampus, according to what I have been told, was abandoned, being placed in a small boat with one or two of his men—and who knows if your brother was not along with him?'"
"And what next?"
"Then, Mr. Jeorling, he added: 'Did it never occur to you to ask Dirk Peters to enlighten you on the subject?' 'Yes, once,' replied Martin Holt, 'I questioned the half-breed about it, and never did I see a man so overcome. He replied in so low a voice that I could scarcely understand him, 'I know not—I know not—' and he ran away with his face buried in his hands.'"
"Was that all you heard of the conversation, boatswain?"
"That was all, Mr. Jeorling, and I thought it so strange that I wished to inform you of it."
"And what conclusion did you draw from it?"
"Nothing, except that I look upon the sealing-master as a scoundrel of the deepest dye, perfectly capable of work-
