ographers call 'a respectable member of the
community.'"

"Did you ever kill a man, Jerry?" asked Wilbur. "No? Well, you kill one
some day--kill him in a fair give-and-take fight--and see how it makes
you feel, and what influence it has on you, and then come back and talk
to me."

It was long after midnight. Wilbur rose.

"We'll ring for a boy," said Ridgeway, "and get you a room. I can fix
you out with clothes enough in the morning."

Wilbur stared in some surprise, and then said:

"Why, I've got the schooner to look after. I can't leave those coolies
alone all night."

"You don't mean to say you're going on board at this time in the
morning?"

"Of course!"

"Why--but--but you'll catch your death of cold."

Wilbur stared at Ridgeway, then nodded helplessly, and, scratching his
head, said, half aloud:

"No, what's the use; I can't make 'em understand. Good-night I'll see
you in the morning."

"We'll all come out and visit you on your yacht," Ridgeway called after
him; but Wilbur did not hear.

In answer to Wilbur's whistle, Jim came in with the dory and took him
off to the schooner. Moran met him as he came over the side.

"I took the watch myself to-night and let the boy turn in," she said.
"How is it ashore, mate?"

"We've come back to the world of little things, Moran," said Wilbur.
"But we'll pull out of here in the morning and get back to the places
where things are real."

"And that's a good hearing, mate."

"Let's get up here on the quarterdeck," added Wilbur. "I've something to
propose to you."

Moran laid an arm across his shoulder, and the two walked aft. For
half an hour Wilbur talked to her earnestly about his new idea of
filibustering; and as he told her of the war he warmed to the subject,
his face glowing, his eyes sparkling. Suddenly, however, he broke off.

"But no!" he exclaimed. "You don't understand, Moran. How can
you--you're foreign-born. It's no affair of yours!"

"Mate! mate!" cried Moran, her hands upon his shoulders. "It's you who
don't understand--don't understand me. Don't you know--can't you see?
Your people are mine now. I'm happy only in your happiness. You were
right--the best happiness is the happiness one shares. And your sorrows
belong to me, just as I belong to you, dear. Your enemies are mine, and
your quarrels are my quarrels." She drew his head quickly toward her and
kissed him.

In the morning the two had made up their minds to a certain vague course
o