to
the air. The gulls rose; they fluttered away like bits of white paper.
And whether that deep throbbing was her engines or his heart Mr. Hammond
couldn't say. He had to nerve himself to bear it, whatever it was. At
that moment old Captain Johnson, the harbour-master, came striding down
the wharf, a leather portfolio under his arm.

"Jean'll be all right," said Mr. Scott. "I'll hold her." He was just in
time. Mr. Hammond had forgotten about Jean. He sprang away to greet old
Captain Johnson.

"Well, Captain," the eager, nervous voice rang out again, "you've taken
pity on us at last."

"It's no good blaming me, Mr. Hammond," wheezed old Captain Johnson,
staring at the liner. "You got Mrs. Hammond on board, ain't yer?"

"Yes, yes!" said Hammond, and he kept by the harbour-master's side.
"Mrs. Hammond's there. Hul-lo! We shan't be long now!"

With her telephone ring-ringing, the thrum of her screw filling the air,
the big liner bore down on them, cutting sharp through the dark water
so that big white shavings curled to either side. Hammond and the
harbour-master kept in front of the rest. Hammond took off his hat; he
raked the decks--they were crammed with passengers; he waved his hat and
bawled a loud, strange "Hul-lo!" across the water; and then turned
round and burst out laughing and said something--nothing--to old Captain
Johnson.

"Seen her?" asked the harbour-master.

"No, not yet. Steady--wait a bit!" And suddenly, between two great
clumsy idiots--"Get out of the way there!" he signed with his
umbrella--he saw a hand raised--a white glove shaking a handkerchief.
Another moment, and--thank God, thank God!--there she was. There was
Janey. There was Mrs. Hammond, yes, yes, yes--standing by the rail and
smiling and nodding and waving her handkerchief.

"Well that's first class--first class! Well, well, well!" He positively
stamped. Like lightning he drew out his cigar-case and offered it to
old Captain Johnson. "Have a cigar, Captain! They're pretty good. Have
a couple! Here"--and he pressed all the cigars in the case on the
harbour-master--"I've a couple of boxes up at the hotel."

"Thenks, Mr. Hammond!" wheezed old Captain Johnson.

Hammond stuffed the cigar-case back. His hands were shaking, but he'd
got hold of himself again. He was able to face Janey. There she was,
leaning on the rail, talking to some woman and at the same time watching
him, ready for him. It struck him, as the gulf of water closed, ho