k the monotony of the voyage?... It is no use looking astern, my
friend. There's only one tug in port, and she is not in sea-going trim,
so we've got a good start of any search party. And as I don't want to
die myself, we won't run away from the land altogether."

And so the day passed, agony and deadly fear blanching the face of one,
and cruel, murderous joy filling the heart of the other. Once, as the
last dying gleams of the wintry sun for a few brief moments shone over
the blackened waters, Challoner saw a long stream of steamer's smoke
between the boat and the misty line of coast, and he lowered the sail
and let the boat drift till darkness enwrapped them again.

Once more he took out food and water, and ate and drank, and then lit
his pipe and smoked, and watched with eyes that glared with the lust of
murder and revenge the motionless being before him.

Only once in all that night of horror to Cressingham did he speak, and
his voice shook and quivered, and came in choking gasps.

"Challoner, for the love of Christ, kill me and end my misery."

"Ha! still alive, Captain Cressingham! That is very satisfactory--to
me only, of course. Kill you, did you say?" and again his wild demoniac
laugh pealed out through the black loneliness of the night. "No, I don't
intend to kill you. I want to see you suffer and die by inches. I want
you to call upon God to help you, so that I can mock at you, and defy
Him to rob me of my vengeance."

A shuddering moan, and then silence again.

Again the day broke, and as the ocean mists cleared and rolled away, and
the grey morning light fell upon the chilled and stiffening form of his
enemy, Challoner came up and looked into his face, and spoke to him.

No answer came from his pallid lips, and Challoner thrust his hand under
Cressingham's coat and felt his heart. He was still alive, and presently
the closed and swollen eyelids opened, and as he met the glance of the
man who leaned over him an anguished groan burst from his heart.

Challoner looked at him intently for awhile; then he hoisted the sail
again, and, taking the tiller, headed the boat in for the land. The wind
had hauled round during the night, and although the boat made a lot
of leeway there was no danger now of being blown away from the land
altogether.

As the sun mounted higher, and the grey outlines of the shores darkened,
he glanced carefully over the sea to the north-west. Nothing in sight
there. But as the boat