de. I made certain that it contained the proper
equipment of oars, rowlocks, and sail. Water was a consideration, and I
robbed every boat aboard of its breaker. As there were nine boats all
told, it meant that we should have plenty of water, and ballast as well,
though there was the chance that the boat would be overloaded, what of
the generous supply of other things I was taking.

While Maud was passing me the provisions and I was storing them in the
boat, a sailor came on deck from the forecastle. He stood by the weather
rail for a time (we were lowering over the lee rail), and then sauntered
slowly amidships, where he again paused and stood facing the wind, with
his back toward us. I could hear my heart beating as I crouched low in
the boat. Maud had sunk down upon the deck and was, I knew, lying
motionless, her body in the shadow of the bulwark. But the man never
turned, and, after stretching his arms above his head and yawning
audibly, he retraced his steps to the forecastle scuttle and disappeared.

A few minutes sufficed to finish the loading, and I lowered the boat into
the water. As I helped Maud over the rail and felt her form close to
mine, it was all I could do to keep from crying out, "I love you! I love
you!" Truly Humphrey Van Weyden was at last in love, I thought, as her
fingers clung to mine while I lowered her down to the boat. I held on to
the rail with one hand and supported her weight with the other, and I was
proud at the moment of the feat. It was a strength I had not possessed a
few months before, on the day I said good-bye to Charley Furuseth and
started for San Francisco on the ill-fated _Martinez_.

As the boat ascended on a sea, her feet touched and I released her hands.
I cast off the tackles and leaped after her. I had never rowed in my
life, but I put out the oars and at the expense of much effort got the
boat clear of the _Ghost_. Then I experimented with the sail. I had
seen the boat-steerers and hunters set their spritsails many times, yet
this was my first attempt. What took them possibly two minutes took me
twenty, but in the end I succeeded in setting and trimming it, and with
the steering-oar in my hands hauled on the wind.

"There lies Japan," I remarked, "straight before us."

"Humphrey Van Weyden," she said, "you are a brave man."

"Nay," I answered, "it is you who are a brave woman."

We turned our heads, swayed by a common impulse to see the last of the
_G