116 SIMPSON, MYSELF AND THE PERSONAGE. 



Of course I was wriggling with curiosity to know 

 what in creation had become of Rudder Simpson 

 and the Personage. I wanted to know, too, what 

 had been the result of the fight and the subse- 

 quent riot. I suppose it was part of the old 

 man's vengeful design to keep me in ignorance 

 of the facts. 



Next day, as I rose from my bunk, I was seized 

 with a sudden fit of dizziness — from loss of blood, 

 the old man said — and in consequence I was 

 ordered to remain in bed all day. 



I have always supposed that that was done in 

 malice. The old man babied me there in port as 

 you never saw him baby me at sea. 



I spent that day imagining all possible and 

 impossible outcomes of the affray. I sent Rudder 

 to jail, had him tried for bloody murder and shot 

 like a dog. I visited a similiar fate upon the Per- 

 sonage. I even congratulated myself that it had 

 not been my own lot to leave my bones in the 

 Potter's Field at Talcahuano. Over and over I 

 turned the story till it became a sort of waking 

 nightmare, growing constantly more and more 

 hideous. I have heard of the fashionable woman 

 who said she couldn' t go to Europe because she was 

 reading seventeen serial stories. My own interest 

 in this Chileno romance was hardly less keen. 



