mates, without even the time honored, "Below, the watch." In
the quiet that was over us, we heard his footsteps as he walked aft.
They were uncertain, like the footsteps of a drunken man. We heard
them descend to the cabin.

Newman turned his gaze upon the lady. She stood there, clutching the
rail. Her body seemed frozen into the attitude. But her face was
alive.

Yes, alive--and not with fear or horror. There was a delight beyond
the powers of description shining in her face. There was incredulity,
with glad conviction overcoming it. Her eyes glowed. Her heart was in
her eyes as she looked at Newman.

Newman spoke, and his voice was rich and sweet, all its harsh menace
gone.

"I have come, Mary," says he.

She did not reply with words. But they looked at each other, those
two, and although there were no more words, yet we gained the
impression they were communing. Men and mates, we gaped, curious and
tongue-tied. This was something quite beyond us, outside our
experience. Bully Fitzgibbon, across the deck from me, pulled wildly
at his mustache, and every movement of his fingers betrayed his
bewilderment.

For what seemed a long time the man and the woman stood silent,
regarding each other. The dusk, which had been gathering, crept upon
us. The lady's face lost its clear outline, and became shadowy.
Suddenly she turned and flitted aft. We listened to her light
footsteps descending to the cabin, as, a short while before, we had
listened to the Old Man's.

When sound of her had ceased, Newman, without being bidden, stepped to
the starboard side and fell into line beside me.

The mate finally broke the awkward silence. Lack of the usual sting
from his voice showed how the scene had shaken him.

"Well--carry on, Mister!" he said to Lynch. "Finish the mustering."

The second mate read off the list of names. With the single exception
of myself, not a man responded with the usual "Here, sir." Not a man
recognized his name among those called; a circumstance not to be
wondered at, for the list was doubtless made up of whatever names
happened to pop into the Knitting Swede's mind. But the mates did not
care about responses. As soon as Lynch was finished, Fitzgibbon
commanded shortly, "Relieve wheel and lookout. Go below, the watch."

We of the starboard watch went below. Newman came with us, and he
walked as he afterwards walked and worked with us, a man apart.

CHAPTER VIII

A man