, the idea of sleeping in the bunk of a Chinaman she had seen
killed would have revolted her, now, it did not trouble her at all. She
only knew that a mattress and clean sheets were heaven, even if she had
to sleep with a revolver under her pillow. Then in a day or two she only
put the revolver there as a matter of routine. The "Chinks" gave
evidence that so far from making trouble they were extremely anxious to
propitiate and please, and the man who had evidently served Chang
appeared in the cabin tidying things and laying out the food, whilst the
man who had evidently been mate worked the ship in his own weird way
seeming scarcely ever to sleep. He had laid the course almost due north,
taking the sun with a back-stick that might have come out of the Ark,
working out his calculations in the fo'c'sle in his own head. Raft did
not know, he knew nothing of navigation as a science, nor did he care,
they were going north and day by day drawing into the track of ships,
that was enough for him.

One day the girl said to him: "Suppose these men make trouble over that
man you killed--and those others."

"Let them," said Raft, "I'll tell my yarn--it's plain enough--I'm not
going to tell no lies. The chap tried to drive us off, and we lost and
near done for, and he hit me a welt on top of all. He got his gruel."

She had played with the idea of making up a story for the sake of Raft;
she felt ashamed of the idea when she heard his words.

"I'm thinking of that money down below," said he, "it belonged by rights
to that big chap. If a ship takes us off we'd better hand it over to the
mate or just leave it there for him to take."

"Yes, we don't want the money," she replied, "I have plenty."

"You! Where have you got it?" asked he, looking her over.

"In France," she replied. Then she laughed. It was the first time she
had laughed since that day when the sea-bulls had driven the penguins
off, and Raft, as though her mirth were infectious, laughed also.

It seemed a joke to him, somehow, the idea of her having money in
France.

The idea of her being one of the Rich People had never worked its way
into his head. She was just herself, different it is true in some
indefinable way from anyone he had ever met, speaking differently,
acting differently, but made used to his mind by struggle and adversity.
He scarcely thought of her as a woman, yet he was hugely fond of her, a
fondness that had begun in pity and had been strengthene