hink I'm worth. He really rowed like steam,
you know."

Rudolph flung his purse into the other boat. When he turned, this man
restored from the sea had disappeared. But he had only stolen forward,
dog in arms, to sit beside Miss Drake. So quietly had all happened, that
none of the sleepers, not even the captain, was aware. Rudolph drew near
the two murmuring voices.

"--Couldn't help it, honestly," said Heywood. "Can't describe, or
explain. Just something--went black inside my head, you know." He
paused. "No: don't recall seeing a thing, really, until I pitched away
the--what happened to be in my hands. A blank, all that. Losing your
head, I suppose they call it. Most extraordinary."

The girl's question recalled him from his puzzle.

"Do? Oh!" He disposed of the subject easily. "I ran, that's all.--Oh,
yes, but I ran faster.--Not half so many as you'd suppose. Most of 'em
were away, burning your hospital. Saw the smoke, as I ran. All gone but
a handful. Hence those stuffed hats, Rudie, in the trench.--Only three
of the lot could run. I merely scuttled into the next bamboo, and kept
on scuttling. No: they weren't half loaded. Oh, yes, arrow in the
shoulder--scratch. Of course, when it came dark, I stopped running, and
made for the nearest fisherman. That's all."

"But," protested Rudolph, wondering, "we heard shots."

"Yes, I had my Webley in my belt. Fortunately. I _told_ you: three of
them could run." The speaker patted the terrier in his lap. "My dream,
eh, little dog? You _were_ the only one to know."

"No," said the girl: "I knew--all the time, that--"

Whatever she meant, Rudolph could only guess; but it was true, he
thought, that she had never once spoken as though the present meeting
were not possible, here or somewhere. Recalling this, he suddenly but
quietly stepped away aft, to sit beside the steersman, and smile in
the darkness.

The two voices flowed on. He did not listen, but watched the phosphorus
welling soft and turbulent in the wake, and far off, in glimpses of the
tropic light, the great Dragon weltering on the face of the waters. The
shape glimmered forth, died away, like a prodigy. How ran the verse?

"Ich lieg' und besitze.
Lass mich schlafen."

"And yet," thought the young man, "I have one pearl from his hoard."
That girl was right: like Siegfried tempered in the grisly flood, the
raw boy was turning into a man, seasoned and invulnerable.

Heywood was calling to him:--

"You m