"Yes."

"Oh, why--my name is Brown--er--John Brown. Not the gentleman who was
hanged, of course; distant relative, that's all."

"Hum! John Brown, hey? What steamer did you fall off of?"

"Why--why--I can't seem to remember. That's odd, isn't it?"

"Yes, I should say 'twas. Where was she bound?"

"Bound? Oh, you mean where was she going?"

"Sartin."

"I think--I think she was going to--to. . . . Humph! how strange this
is!"

"What?"

"Why, that I should forget all these things."

The lightkeeper regarded his guest with suspicion.

"Yaas," he drawled slowly, "when you call it strange you ain't
exaggeratin' none wuth mentionin'. I s'pose," he added, after a moment,
during which he stared intently at Mr. Brown, who smiled in polite
acknowledgment of the stare; "I s'pose likely you couldn't possibly
remember what port you hailed from?"