still in the sky and God
presumably in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured.

Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing
immediately on the _Arla_ for Tulagi, where, until the following
steamer day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were
lady tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero,
while Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent
back from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market,
for he was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain
Hansen or Mr. Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more
gorgeous insight into life in the Solomons.

EL DORADO

From "A Tarpaulin Muster," BY JOHN MASEFIELD

The night had fallen over the harbour before the winch began to rattle.
The stars came out, calm and golden, shaking little tracks in the sea.
In the tiers of ships shone the riding-lights. To the westward, where
the Point jutted out, the great golden light of Negra winked and
glimmered as it revolved. It was a beat continually, like the marching
of an army, along the line of the coast. In one of the tiers of ships
there was a sing-song. A crew had gathered on the forecastle head, to
beat their pannikins to the stars. The words of their song floated out
into the darkness, full of a haunting beauty which thrilled and
satisfied me. There was something in the night, in the air, in the
beauty of the town, and in the sweetness of the sailors' singing, which
made me sorry to be leaving. I should have liked to have gone ashore
again, to the _Calle del Inca_, where the cafes and taverns stood. I
should have liked to have seen those stately pale women, in their black
robes, with the scarlet roses in their hair, swaying slowly on the
stage to the clicking of the castenets. I should have liked to have
taken part in another wild dance among the tables of the wine shops. I
was sorry to be leaving.

When the winch began to clank, as the cable was hove in, I gathered up
my lead-line, and went to the leadsman's dicky, or little projecting
platform, on the starboard side. I was to be the leadsman that night,
and as we should soon be moving, I made the breast-rope secure, and
stood by.

Presently the bell of the engine-room clanged, and there came a wash
abaft as the screws thrashed. The ship trembled, as the turbulent
trampling of the engines shook her. The bell clanged again; the water