He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. It dropped sideways and fell with a bang to the table. I drew out what I had saved and boarded the first ship out. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. It had been a trying day. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked.
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