below me gleamed and whitened; the dark body of the steamer, with her
lines of lit ports, swept slowly across the lights in the harbour. The
trampling of the engines steadied, and took to itself a rhythm. We
were off. I cast an eye astern at the little town I was so sad to
leave, and caught a glimpse of a path of churned water, broadening
astern of us. A voice sounded from the promenade deck behind me. "Zat
light, what you call 'eem?"

I could not answer. My orders were to keep strict silence. The point
of an umbrella took me sharply below the shoulders. "What you call
'eem--zat light? Ze light zere?"

I wondered if I could swing my lead on to him; it was worth trying.
Again came the umbrella; and again the bell of the engine-room clanged.

"Are you ready there with the lead?" came the mate's voice above me.
"All ready with the lead, sir." "What have we now?" I gathered
forward and swung the lead. I could not reach the umbrella-man, even
with my spare line. Once, twice, thrice I swung, and pitched the
plummet well forward into the bow wash.

"By the deep, eight, sir."

Again the bell clanged; the ship seemed to tremble and stop. "Another
cast now, quickly." "And a half, seven, sir." As I hauled in, I again
tasted the umbrella, and another question came to me: "What 'ave you
do? Why 'ave you do zat?" I swore under my breath. "Are you asleep
there leadsman?" The mate was biting his finger-ends. I sent the lead
viciously into the sea. "Quarter less seven, sir." "Another cast,
smartly, now." Rapidly I hauled in, humming an old ballad to myself.
"We'll have the ship ashore," I repeated. There was a step on the deck
behind me, and again came the voice, "Ze man, ze man zere what 'ave he
do? Why 'ave 'e go like so?" "Won't you pass further aft, sir?" said
a suave voice. "You're interrup'in' the leadsman." It was one of the
quartermasters. Once again the lead flew forward. "By the mark,
seven, sir."

There was a pause; then came the voice again. "I go zees way," said
the quartermaster. The steps of the umbrella-man passed away aft.
"Zees way," said the quartermaster, under his breath, "zees way! You
gaw-dem Dago!" I could have hugged the fellow.

"What now?" said the old man, leaning over from the bridge. I cast
again. "And a half, eight, sir."

"We're clear," said the voice above me. "Speed ahead, Mr. Jenkins."
I gathered up my line. The engine-room bell clanged once more; the