began again, with agitation, "what I
can't make out is what you're made of! To stay in this place is beyond
me. There's the bloody sun going down--and to stay here is beyond me!"

The others looked upon him with horrified surprise. This fall of their
chief pillar--this irrational passion in the practical man, suddenly
barred out of his true sphere, the sphere of action--shocked and daunted
them. But it gave to another and unseen hearer the chance for which he
had been waiting. Mac, on the striking of the brig, had crawled up the
companion, and he now showed himself and spoke up.

"Captain Wicks," said he, "it's me that brought this trouble on the lot
of ye. I'm sorry for ut, I ask all your pardons, and if there's any one
can say 'I forgive ye,' it'll make my soul the lighter."

Wicks stared upon the man in amaze; then his self-control returned to
him. "We're all in glass houses here," he said; "we ain't going to turn
to and throw stones. I forgive you, sure enough; and much good may it do
you!"

The others spoke to the same purpose.

"I thank ye for ut, and 'tis done like gentlemen," said Mac. "But
there's another thing I have upon my mind. I hope we're all Prodestan's
here?"

It appeared they were; it seemed a small thing for the Protestant
religion to rejoice in!

"Well, that's as it should be," continued Mac. "And why shouldn't we say
the Lord's Prayer? There can't be no hurt in ut."

He had the same quiet, pleading, childlike way with him as in the
morning; and the others accepted his proposal, and knelt down without a
word.

"Knale if ye like!" said he. "I'll stand." And he covered his eyes.

So the prayer was said to the accompaniment of the surf and seabirds,
and all rose refreshed and felt lightened of a load. Up to then, they
had cherished their guilty memories in private, or only referred to
them in the heat of a moment and fallen immediately silent. Now they had
faced their remorse in company, and the worst seemed over. Nor was it
only that. But the petition "Forgive us our trespasses," falling in
so apposite after they had themselves forgiven the immediate author of
their miseries, sounded like an absolution.

Tea was taken on deck in the time of the sunset, and not long after the
five castaways--castaways once more--lay down to sleep.

Day dawned windless and hot. Their slumbers had been too profound to be
refreshing, and they woke listless, and sat up, and stared about them
with dull eyes. O