ause, gathering the line
busily for another cast. "Tiga stengah," which means three fathom and a
half. For a mile or so from seaward there was a uniform depth of water
right up to the bar. "Half-three. Half-three. Half-three,"--and his
modulated cry, returned leisurely and monotonous, like the repeated
call of a bird, seemed to float away in sunshine and disappear in the
spacious silence of the empty sea and of a lifeless shore lying
open, north and south, east and west, without the stir of a single
cloud-shadow or the whisper of any other voice.

The owner-engineer of the Sofala remained very still behind the two
seamen of different race, creed, and color; the European with the
time-defying vigor of his old frame, the little Malay, old, too, but
slight and shrunken like a withered brown leaf blown by a chance wind
under the mighty shadow of the other. Very busy looking forward at the
land, they had not a glance to spare; and Massy, glaring at them from
behind, seemed to resent their attention to their duty like a personal
slight upon himself.

This was unreasonable; but he had lived in his own world of unreasonable
resentments for many years. At last, passing his moist palm over the
rare lanky wisps of coarse hair on the top of his yellow head, he began
to talk slowly.

"A leadsman, you want! I suppose that's your correct mail-boat style.
Haven't you enough judgment to tell where you are by looking at the
land? Why, before I had been a twelvemonth in the trade I was up to that
trick--and I am only an engineer. I can point to you from here where the
bar is, and I could tell you besides that you are as likely as not to
stick her in the mud in about five minutes from now; only you would call
it interfering, I suppose. And there's that written agreement of ours,
that says I mustn't interfere."

His voice stopped. Captain Whalley, without relaxing the set severity of
his features, moved his lips to ask in a quick mumble--

"How near, Serang?"

"Very near now, Tuan," the Malay muttered rapidly.

"Dead slow," said the Captain aloud in a firm tone.

The Serang snatched at the handle of the telegraph. A gong clanged down
below. Massy with a scornful snigger walked off and put his head down
the engineroom skylight.

"You may expect some rare fooling with the engines, Jack," he bellowed.
The space into which he stared was deep and full of gloom; and the gray
gleams of steel down there seemed cool after the intense glar