meet the captain and
sign articles, and Proctor's heart beat fiercely with a savage joy when
he heard the voice of the man who had stolen Nell Levison from him! So
Rothesay was the captain of the _Kate Rennie!_ And the Solomon Islands
was a good place to pay off one's old scores.

The _Kate Rennie_ sailed the next day. As soon as the tug cast off, the
crew were mustered on the main-deck, and the watches and boats'
crew picked. Peter Jensen, A.B., was standing furthest away when the
captain's eye fell on him.

"What's your name?" he asked, and then in an instant his face paled--he
recognised the man.

Jensen made no answer. His eyes were fixed in a dull stare upon the
features of a little boy of six, who had come up from the cabin and had
caught hold of Rothesay's hand. For Nell Levison's face was before
him again. Then with an effort he withdrew his gaze from the child and
looked down at the deck.

"You can have him, Mr. Williams," said Rothesay curtly to the mate.

From that day till the barque made the Solomon Islands, Rothesay watched
the man he had injured, but Jensen, A.B., gave no sign. He did his work
well, and spoke to no one except when spoken to. And when the boy Allan
Rothesay came on deck and prattled to the crew, Jensen alone took no
notice of him. But whenever he heard the child speak, the memory of the
woman he had lost came back to him, and he longed for his revenge.

One night, as the barque was slipping quietly through the water, and the
misty mountain heights of Bougainville Island showed ghostly grey under
myriad stars, Rothesay came on deck an hour or two before the dawn.
Jensen was at the wheel, and the captain walked aft, seated himself near
him, and lit a cigar. Williams, the mate, was at the break of the poop,
and out of earshot.

Presently Rothesay walked over to the wheel and stood beside the
steersman, glancing first at the compass, and then aloft at the white
swelling canvas. The barque was close-hauled and the course "full and
by."

"Is she coming up at all?" said Rothesay quietly, speaking in a low
voice.

"No, sir," answered Jensen steadily, but looking straight before him;
"she did come up a point or so a little while back, but fell off again;
but the wind keeps pretty steady, sir."

Rothesay stood by him irresolutely, debating within himself. Then he
walked up to the mate.

"Mr. Williams, send another man to the wheel, and tell Jensen to come
below. I want to speak to him