the saloon--too loudly, perhaps, but I
was afraid I couldn't make a sound. He was by my side in an instant--the
double captain slipped past the stairs--through a tiny dark passage
... a sliding door. We were in the sail locker, scrambling on our knees
over the sails. A sudden thought struck me. I saw myself wandering
barefooted, bareheaded, the sun beating on my dark poll. I snatched
off my floppy hat and tried hurriedly in the dark to ram it on my other
self. He dodged and fended off silently. I wonder what he thought had
come to me before he understood and suddenly desisted. Our hands met
gropingly, lingered united in a steady, motionless clasp for a second.
... No word was breathed by either of us when they separated.

I was standing quietly by the pantry door when the steward returned.

"Sorry, sir. Kettle barely warm. Shall I light the spirit lamp?"

"Never mind."

I came out on deck slowly. It was now a matter of conscience to shave
the land as close as possible--for now he must go overboard whenever the
ship was put in stays. Must! There could be no going back for him. After
a moment I walked over to leeward and my heart flew into my mouth at the
nearness of the land on the bow. Under any other circumstances I would
not have held on a minute longer. The second mate had followed me
anxiously.

I looked on till I felt I could command my voice.

"She will weather," I said then in a quiet tone.

"Are you going to try that, sir?" he stammered out incredulously.

I took no notice of him and raised my tone just enough to be heard by
the helmsman.

"Keep her good full."

"Good full, sir."

The wind fanned my cheek, the sails slept, the world was silent. The
strain of watching the dark loom of the land grow bigger and denser was
too much for me. I had shut my eyes--because the ship must go closer.
She must! The stillness was intolerable. Were we standing still?

When I opened my eyes the second view started my heart with a thump. The
black southern hill of Koh-ring seemed to hang right over the ship
like a towering fragment of everlasting night. On that enormous mass of
blackness there was not a gleam to be seen, not a sound to be heard. It
was gliding irresistibly towards us and yet seemed already within reach
of the hand. I saw the vague figures of the watch grouped in the waist,
gazing in awed silence.

"Are you going on, sir?" inquired an unsteady voice at my elbow.

I ignored it. I had to go on.