self what I said
in that moment of unrestraint. I felt her eyes on my face and knew her
lips were parted in a smile of content, yet doubt if they answered me.
She seemed to yield unconsciously, her head upon my shoulder, her face
upturned to the stars, while slowly all the intense fatigue of the
day and night stupified mind and body. Almost before I realized her
weariness, the eyes were closed and she was sleeping in my arms.

I held her closely, so awakened by what had passed between us, as to
feel no desire to sleep myself. Dorothy Fairfax loved me. I could
scarcely grasp the thought. I had dreamed of love, but only to repress
the imagination as impossible. Yet now, voluntarily from her own lips,
it had proven true. With eyes uplifted to the stars I swore fidelity,
pledging solemnly all my years to her service; nor could I drive my
thought away from the dear girl, sleeping so confidently upon my
shoulder. Then slowly there came back memory of where we were, of what
grave peril surrounded us, of my own responsibility. My eyes sought to
pierce the gloom of the night, only to gain glimpses of black water
heaving and tumbling on every side, the boat flung high on a whitened
crest, and then hurled into the hollow beneath, as though it was a
mere chip in the grasp of the sea. The skill of Watkins alone kept us
afloat, and even his iron muscles must be strained to the limit.
Forward the boat was a mere smudge, the men curled up asleep and no
longer visible. All that stood out with any distinctness of outline
was the lug sail, stiff as a board. I endeavored to turn my head,
without disturbing the slumbering girl, to gain view of the steersman.

"How is she making it, Watkins?"

"A little stiff, sir, but she's a staunch boat. The sea's likely to go
down after sunup."

"Well, you've had long enough trick--call one of the men aft. I'm not
strong enough yet for that job."

"No, sir," and I caught the echo of a chuckle, "and yer have yer arms
full. I kin hold on yere till daylight; 'twon't be long now."

"Make one of them help; who is the best man?"

"Schmitt for this sorter job."

I called him, and growling to himself at being awakened, the Dutchman
crept past cautiously and wedged himself in beside Watkins. There was
a few words of controversy between the two men, but in the end Schmitt
held the steering oar and a few minutes later Watkins had slipped down
into the boat's bottom and was sound asleep. And so the gray daw