satellites, and that a space was cleared
through which I could see the man they had saved still lying on the
deck, with the captain kneeling at his head, and looking back as if he
were waiting for something. And at that moment the moon shone out once
more, and showed me a sight that I'll forget when I forget you--Dennis
O'Moore!

* * * * *

It was a lad that they had saved, not a full-grown man, except in the
sense of his height, which was nearly an inch beyond Alister's. He was
insensible, and I thought he was dead, so death-like was the pallor of
his face in contrast with the dark curls of his head and the lashes of
his closed eyes. We were dipping to leeward, his head rolled a little on
the rough pillow that had been heaped to raise him, and his white face
against the inky waves reminded me of the face of the young lord in
Charlie's father's church, who died abroad, and a marble figure of him
was sent home from Italy, with his dog lying at his feet. His shoulders
were raised as well as his head, and his jacket and shirt had both been
washed open by the waves.

And that was how I got the key to the Irishmen's dialogue. For round the
lad's throat was a black ribbon, pendant from which a small cross of
ebony was clear to be seen upon his naked breast; and on this there
glittered in the moonlight a silver image of the Redeemer of the World.

CHAPTER VI.

"Why, what's that to you, if my eyes I'm a wiping?
A tear is a pleasure, d'ye see, in its way;
'Tis nonsense for trifles, I own, to be piping,
But they that ha'n't pity, why I pities they.
* * * * * * * *
The heart and the eyes, you see feel the same motion,
And if both shed their drops, 'tis all the same end;
And thus 'tis that every tight lad of the ocean
Sheds his blood for his country, his tears for his friend."
CHARLES DIBDIN.

If one wants to find the value of all he has learned in the way of
righteousness, common-sense, and real skill of any sort; or to reap most
quickly what he has sown to obedience, industry, and endurance, let him
go out and rough it in the world.

There he shall find that a conscience early trained to resist temptation
and to feel shame will be to him the instinctive clutch that may now and
again--in an ungraceful, anyhow fashion