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We
had
exchanged
hardly
a
dozen
words
since
the
iceberg
had
begun
to
move
again
.
When
Dirk
Peters
came
up
to
me
,
he
did
not
address
me
at
first
,
and
was
so
intent
on
his
thoughts
that
I
was
not
quite
sure
he
saw
me
.
At
length
,
he
leaned
back
against
an
ice
-
block
,
and
spoke
:
“
Mr
.
Jeorling
,
”
he
said
,
“
you
remember
,
in
your
cabin
in
the
Halbrane
,
I
told
you
the
—
the
affair
of
the
Grampus
?
”
I
remembered
well
.
“
I
told
you
that
Parker
’
s
name
was
not
Parker
,
that
it
was
Holt
,
and
that
he
was
Ned
Holt
’
s
brother
?
”
“
I
know
,
Dirk
Peters
,
”
I
replied
,
“
but
why
do
you
refer
to
that
sad
story
again
?
”
“
Why
,
Mr
.
Jeorling
?
Have
not
—
have
you
never
said
anything
about
it
to
anybody
?
”
“
Not
to
anybody
,
”
I
protested
.
“
How
could
you
suppose
I
should
be
so
ill
-
advised
,
so
imprudent
,
as
to
divulge
your
secret
,
a
secret
which
ought
never
to
pass
our
lips
—
a
dead
secret
?
”
“
Dead
,
yes
,
dead
!
And
yet
,
understand
me
,
it
seems
to
me
that
,
among
the
crew
,
something
is
known
.
”
I
instantly
recalled
to
mind
what
the
boatswain
had
told
me
concerning
a
certain
conversation
in
which
he
had
overheard
Hearne
prompting
Martin
Holt
to
ask
the
half
-
breed
what
were
the
circumstances
of
his
brother
’
s
death
on
board
the
Grampus
.
Had
a
portion
of
the
secret
got
out
,
or
was
this
apprehension
on
the
part
of
Dirk
Peters
purely
imaginary
?
“
Explain
yourself
,
”
I
said
.
