ed Mr. Bloom
with a bland tolerance of youthful folly which I remember irritated me
intolerably. Jack kept his gaze fixed on the slowly moving glow.

"'There's something wrong,' he remarked, soberly, ignoring Mr. Bloom at
his elbow.

"'Oh, I don't think so, Captain. Only a ...'

"'I tell you there's something wrong!' snarled Jack, turning on him
suddenly. 'Stand by at the ladder there,' and the man with the
hurricane-lamp said, quietly, 'Right, Sir.' Jack returned his gaze to
the boat, which was approaching the edge of the shadow. How he knew, I
don't pretend to explain. I take it he had a _flair_, as the French say,
the sort of _flair_ most of us acquire in our own profession and take
for granted, but which always appears uncanny in another. And it was
remarkable how the conviction that there _was_ something wrong seized
upon the ship and materialized in a line of shadowy figures leaning on
the bulwarks and projecting grotesquely illuminated faces into the light
of the lamp on the gangway.

"'Mr. Siddons there?' called Jack, quietly, as the boat came into view
in the moonlight. The man at the tiller sang out 'No, Sir,' as he put
the rudder over and added, 'way 'nuff. Catch hold there!' and another
figure stood up in the bows and laid hold of the grating.

"'Stand by,' said Jack coming down to the after deck. 'Come up here,
you,' he added, addressing the man who had spoken. The man, one of the
sailors, came up.

"'We were waitin' for Mr. Siddons, Sir, when you hailed.'

"'What orders did he leave?'

"'Said he was going up the beach a little way, Sir. Told us he wouldn't
be long.'

"'Where did you land the pilot?'

"'At Mr. Gruenbaum's jetty, Sir. It's the best for a big boat.'

"'Then where is he now?'

"'I couldn't say, Sir,' said the man. 'He went up the path with the
pilot; that's all we know.'

"Jack took a turn along the deck.

"'P'raps I'd better go and 'unt him up,' suggested Mr. Bloom, stroking
his moustache.

"'And leave me here with one mate and no pilot?' said Jack. 'Fred, you
go.' He followed me into my room where I had a pocket-torch, and
whispered, 'Go up yourself, Jack. See what I mean? He's a decent young
feller, even if I do find fault. Don't let the men see anything.'

"'You don't think he's gone on the booze?' I said, incredulously.

"'I don't know what to think,' he retorted, irritably. 'I always thought
he had plenty o' principle. You can't tell nowadays. But we don't want
him