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For the first time in his life he had began to think seriously of religious things. Ever since the death of the young Highlander, Kenneth McGregor, he had had deep heart-searchings. Besides, another event had occurred that had cast a shadow over the whole ship, so sudden and so awful had it been. Mr. Grossman had made a wonderful recovery.
He sent for his great coat and umbrella, and as his valet helped him on with his coat, the doctor called out to him: "Don't stay up long in the damp." "Oh, I'll be down directly," he had answered. "I've no wish to lay myself up again." The company at table fell into talk, and it was some time before they dispersed. "It is time Mr. Grossman was down," said the doctor; "did you see him, steward?"
"No, nothing can harm him now, poor young fellow. I will go and speak to the captain will you help Mr. Grossman to his cabin?" As they reached the state-room door, Mr. Cameron said, "Friend, when your time comes, may you too know the peace that is filling the heart of yon lad." "He is believing in a lie, I fear," said the other.
"Mawruss," he said, "do me the favor and go upstairs to Louis Grossman. You know what to say to him." "Why should I go, Abe?" Morris said. "You know the whole plan. You saw Feldman." "But it don't look well for me," Abe rejoined. "Do me the favor and go yourself."
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