ce on such a night, when a man could
not have seen his own mother, stood she two feet distant!

That warning had puzzled me, and I did not dare question Newman
concerning it. He was not the kind of man one could question. But
what was likely to lurk in the dark? "Death," said he. Did that mean
he feared a stealthy assassination, a knife thrust from the dark? Did
he think that Captain Swope was planning the cold-blooded murder of an
able seaman?

There was the question. In one way, it opposed my reason. Of course,
this was a hell-ship, and murder might very well take place on board.
But that the captain should deliberately plot the removal of a foc'sle
hand! Able seamen were not of such importance in a hell-ship.

Yet Newman was more than a foremast hand. God knew who he was, or what
his business in the ship, but it was plain he was Swope's enemy, and
there was a private feud between them. His mere appearance had caused
the Old Man to run below, and remain hidden for three days! . . .
There was the lady. She was Newman's friend. She knew the Old Man's
moods, and she was positive about it. The warning was doubtless well
founded, I concluded. And Newman was my friend, my chum for the
voyage, I hoped. If there were danger for him in the dark, it were
well his friend stayed handy by. So, throughout that black watch, I
stuck as close as possible to his elbow.

Six bells went when the watch was forward at a job. Suddenly, down the
wind, came a dear, musical hail, from aft.

"Ahoy--Mister!"

"B'Gawd, the Old Man's on deck!" ejaculated Lynch to his assistants.
Then he bellowed aft, "Yes, sir?"

"Reef t'gan's'l's, Mister!" came the command.

"_Eh_!" blankly exclaimed Lynch. "Now, what is he up to?" But he
yelled back his acknowledgment, "Reef t'gan's'ls, sir!"

When the sails were clewed up, Newman and I were ordered aloft on the
mizzen. The stiffs were useless aloft on such a night, and the fore
and main were given the handful of squareheads and the two tradesmen.

When we jumped for the sheer pole we passed within a foot of a figure
lounging across the rail at the poop break, and we knew it was Swope.
There had been no word from him since the initial order.

It was so dark we did not see his face. As we swung up into the mizzen
rigging, Newman shouted words in my ear that I knew the wind carried to
the captain.

"The devil is abroad, Jack, and there is hell to pay!"

And when we had gained t