d bundled in my things somehow I struck a match and had a
dazzling glimpse of my berth; then I pitched the roll of my bedding into
the bunk but took no trouble to spread it out. I wasn't sleepy now,
neither was I tired. And the thought that I was done with the earth for
many many months to come made me feel very quiet and self-contained as
it were. Sailors will understand what I mean."

Marlow nodded. "It is a strictly professional feeling," he commented.
"But other professions or trades know nothing of it. It is only this
calling whose primary appeal lies in the suggestion of restless
adventure which holds out that deep sensation to those who embrace it.
It is difficult to define, I admit."

"I should call it the peace of the sea," said Mr Charles Powell in an
earnest tone but looking at us as though he expected to be met by a
laugh of derision and were half prepared to salve his reputation for
common sense by joining in it. But neither of us laughed at Mr Charles
Powell in whose start in life we had been called to take a part. He was
lucky in his audience.

"A very good name," said Marlow looking at him approvingly. "A sailor
finds a deep feeling of security in the exercise of his calling. The
exacting life of the sea has this advantage over the life of the earth
that its claims are simple and cannot be evaded."

"Gospel truth," assented Mr Powell. "No! they cannot be evaded."

That an excellent understanding should have established itself between
my old friend and our new acquaintance was remarkable enough. For they
were exactly dissimilar--one individuality projecting itself in length
and the other in breadth, which is already a sufficient ground for
irreconcilable difference. Marlow who was lanky, loose, quietly
composed in varied shades of brown robbed of every vestige of gloss, had
a narrow, veiled glance, the neutral bearing and the secret irritability
which go together with a predisposition to congestion of the liver. The
other, compact, broad and sturdy of limb, seemed extremely full of sound
organs functioning vigorously all the time in order to keep up the
brilliance of his colouring, the light curl of his coal-black hair and
the lustre of his eyes, which asserted themselves roundly in an open,
manly face. Between two such organisms one would not have expected to
find the slightest temperamental accord. But I have observed that
profane men living in ships like the holy men gathered togethe