ongst men of their class that the true fighter is
superior to all little weaknesses and small motives. When the girl
crossed the moonlit deck to Done's side, the sailors drifted away out of
earshot, and inquisitive eyes could not turn in Jim's direction without
provoking a profane reproof.

Done's heart beat heavily as the slim, dark figure faced him, extending a
trembling hand.

'I am Lucy Woodrow,' she said in a voice little above a whisper.

'Yes,' he answered simply.

Her hand closed upon his fingers, and she was silent for a moment,
evidently deeply agitated. Her head was bent, hiding her face from his
eyes; and he noticed curiously the moonlight glimmering like tiny sparks
in her red-brown hair.

'You saved my life,' she continued; 'you risked your own. I thank you
with all my heart.'

There was something in her voice that made the simple, formal words quite
eloquent, but Jim scarcely heeded them; he was terrified lest she should
kiss his hand, and withdrew it abruptly.

'I can only say thank you--thank you! And one says that in gratitude for
a mere politeness. But you understand, don't you? My heart is full.'

'Yes, I understand,' he said. 'Now, please, try to say no more about it.
I'm glad to have helped you; but the risk I took was very small after
all. I've almost lived in the sea.'

She raised her face and looked into his eyes.

'It is very easy for you to speak like that,' she said; 'but I know that
if it were not for you at this moment my poor body--' She sobbed and
turned to the sea, with something of its terror and desolation in her
face, and Done understood the grim idea that possessed her.

'Thank God, it was not to be!' he said; and he felt more deeply at that
moment than he had done for many years.

Lucy Woodrow remained silent, leaning upon the gunwale with her face to
the sea, and he noticed presently that she was weeping, and was silent
too. When she spoke again the new feeling in her voice startled him.

'Why did you save me?' she asked in a passionate whisper.

'Why?' He was full of wonder, and repeated the interrogation vaguely.

'Yes, why--why? You had no right!'

'Is it a matter of right?' he asked, stunned. 'I saw you fall. I don't
know why I jumped over. My next conscious action was of striking out in
the water. The act was quite involuntary.'

'You had no right!' Her voice was very low, but instinct with a grief
that was tragic.

'Tell me what you mean.' Unconsciously,