eard him hailing down as the tender was casting off:

"See you to-morrow, Mr. Bayliss. Yep. Coming ashore with the wife for a
spree. Anniversary. Yep."

But he didn't sound much like a spree. They _had_, robbed him, partly,
after all. I wondered what _she_ thought about it. I didn't know till
night. She didn't show up to supper, which Fedderson and I got
ourselves--had a headache, be said. It was my early watch. I went and
lit up and came back to read a spell. He was finishing off the
Jacob's-ladder, and thoughtful, like a man that's lost a treasure. Once
or twice I caught him looking about the room on the sly. It was
pathetic, sir.

Going up the second time, I stepped out on the walk-around to have a
look at things. She was there on the seaward side, wrapped in that silky
thing. A fair sea was running across the ledge and it was coming on a
little thick--not too thick. Off to the right the Boston boat was
blowing, _whroom-whroom!_ Creeping up on us, quarter-speed. There was
another fellow behind her, and a fisherman's conch farther offshore.

I don't know why, but I stopped beside her and leaned on the rail. She
didn't appear to notice me, one way or another. We stood and we stood,
listening to the whistles, and the longer we stood the more it got on my
nerves, her not noticing me. I suppose she'd been too much on my mind
lately. I began to be put out. I scraped my feet. I coughed. By and by I
said out loud:

"Look here, I guess I better get out the fog-horn and give those fellows
a toot."

"Why?" said she, without moving her head--calm as that.

"_Why?_" It gave me a turn, sir. For a minute I stared at her. "Why?
Because if she don't pick up this light before very many minutes she'll
be too close in to wear--tide'll have her on the rocks--that's why!"

I couldn't see her face, but I could see one of her silk shoulders lift
a little, like a shrug. And there I kept on staring at her, a dumb one,
sure enough. I know what brought me to was hearing the Boston boat's
three sharp toots as she picked up the light--mad as anything--and swung
her helm a-port. I turned away from her, sweat stringing down my face,
and walked around to the door. It was just as well, too, for the
feed-pipe was plugged in the lamp and the wicks were popping. She'd have
been out in another five minutes, sir.

When I'd finished, I saw that woman standing in the doorway. Her eyes
were bright. I had a horror of her, sir, a living horror.

"I