out his hand
to the bulwark to steady himself. But Captain Shewell held the hand that
had been put out; shook it, pressed it. He tried to urge Captain Debney
forward, but the other drew back to the gangway.

"Pull yourself together, Dick, or there'll be a mess," said Shewell
softly.

"My God, how could you do it?" replied his brother aghast.

Meanwhile the anchor had been raised, and the Hornet was moving towards
the harbour mouth. "You have ruined us both," said Richard Debney.
"Neither, Dick! I'll save your bacon." He made a sign, the gangway was
closed, he gave the word for full steam ahead, and the Hornet began to
race through the water before Captain Debney guessed his purpose.

"What do you mean to do?" he asked sternly, as he saw his own gig
falling astern.

"To make it hard for you to blow me to pieces. You've got to do it, of
course, if you can, but I must get a start."

"How far do you intend carrying me?"

"To the Farilones, perhaps."

Richard Debney's face had a sick look. "Take me to your cabin," he
whispered.

What was said behind the closed door no man in this world knows, and it
is well not to listen too closely to those who part, knowing that they
will never meet again. They had been children in the one mother's arms;
there was nothing in common between them now except that ancient love.

Nearing the Farilones, Captain Debney was put off in an open boat.
Standing there alone, he was once more a naval officer, and he called
out sternly: "Sir, I hope to sink you and your smuggling craft within
four-and-twenty hours!"

Captain Shewell spoke no word, but saluted deliberately, and watched
his brother's boat recede, till it was a speck upon the sea, as it moved
towards Golden Gate.

"Good old Dick!" he said at last, as he turned away toward the bridge.
"And he'll do it, if he can!"

But he never did, for as the Cormorant cleared the harbour that evening
there came an accident to her machinery, and with two days' start the
Hornet was on her way to be sold again to a South American Republic.

And Edward Debney, once her captain? What does it matter?

A SABLE SPARTAN

Lady Tynemouth was interested; his Excellency was amused. The interest
was real, the amusement was not ironical. Blithelygo, seeing that he
had at least excited the attention of the luncheon party, said
half-apologetically: "Of course my experience is small, but in
many parts of the world I have been surprised to see how