solicitude for Wolf Larsen, of all creatures. Where was her solicitude
for me, I thought,--for me whom she had been afraid to have merely peep
aboard?

She was too subtle not to follow the trend of my silence. And she was as
direct as she was subtle.

"You must go aboard, Humphrey, and find out," she said. "And if you want
to laugh at me, you have my consent and forgiveness."

I arose obediently and went down the beach.

"Do be careful," she called after me.

I waved my arm from the forecastle head and dropped down to the deck.
Aft I walked to the cabin companion, where I contented myself with
hailing below. Wolf Larsen answered, and as he started to ascend the
stairs I cocked my revolver. I displayed it openly during our
conversation, but he took no notice of it. He appeared the same,
physically, as when last I saw him, but he was gloomy and silent. In
fact, the few words we spoke could hardly be called a conversation. I
did not inquire why he had not been ashore, nor did he ask why I had not
come aboard. His head was all right again, he said, and so, without
further parley, I left him.

Maud received my report with obvious relief, and the sight of smoke which
later rose in the galley put her in a more cheerful mood. The next day,
and the next, we saw the galley smoke rising, and sometimes we caught
glimpses of him on the poop. But that was all. He made no attempt to
come ashore. This we knew, for we still maintained our night-watches.
We were waiting for him to do something, to show his hand, so to say, and
his inaction puzzled and worried us.

A week of this passed by. We had no other interest than Wolf Larsen, and
his presence weighed us down with an apprehension which prevented us from
doing any of the little things we had planned.

But at the end of the week the smoke ceased rising from the galley, and
he no longer showed himself on the poop. I could see Maud's solicitude
again growing, though she timidly--and even proudly, I think--forbore a
repetition of her request. After all, what censure could be put upon
her? She was divinely altruistic, and she was a woman. Besides, I was
myself aware of hurt at thought of this man whom I had tried to kill,
dying alone with his fellow-creatures so near. He was right. The code
of my group was stronger than I. The fact that he had hands, feet, and a
body shaped somewhat like mine, constituted a claim which I could not
ignore.

So I did not wa