directly for me. It was the first time he had noticed me, although it
was the third day out. He stood in front of me, his red eyes flaming,
and, although I am a tall man, he had an inch perhaps the advantage of
me.

"What's this about Williams?" he demanded furiously. "What do you mean
by a thing like that?"

"He was bullying me. I didn't intend to drop him."

The ship was rolling gently; he made a pass at me with a magazine he
carried, and almost lost his balance. The women had risen, and were
watching from the corner of the after house. I caught him and steadied
him until he could clutch a chair.

"You try any tricks like that again, and you'll go overboard," he
stormed. "Who are you, anyhow? Not one of our men?"

I saw the quick look between Vail and Mrs. Turner, and saw her come
forward. Mrs. Johns followed her, smiling.

"Marsh!" Mrs. Turner protested. "I told you about him--the man who had
been ill."

"Oh, another of your friends!" he sneered, and looked from me to Vail
with his ugly smile.

Vail went rather pale and threw up his head quickly. The next moment
Mrs. Johns had saved the situation with an irrelevant remark, and the
incident was over. They were playing bridge, not without dispute, but
at least without insult. But I had hard a glimpse beneath the surface
of that luxurious cruise, one of many such in the next few days.

That was on Monday, the third day out. Up to that time Miss Lee had
not noticed me, except once, when she found me scrubbing the deck, to
comment on a corner that she thought might be cleaner, and another time
in the evening, when she and Vail sat in chairs until late, when she
had sent me below for a wrap. She looked past me rather than at me,
gave me her orders quietly but briefly, and did not even take the
trouble to ignore me. And yet, once or twice, I had found her eyes
fixed on me with a cool, half-amused expression, as if she found
something in my struggles to carry trays as if I had been accustomed to
them, or to handle a mop as a mop should be handled and not like a
hockey stick--something infinitely entertaining and not a little absurd.

But that morning, after they had settled to bridge, she followed me to
the rail, out of earshot I straightened and took off my cap, and she
stood looking at me, unsmiling.

"Unclench your hands!" she said.

"I beg your pardon!" I straightened out my fingers, conscious for the
first time of my clenched fists, and e