of no God between us. You know what I
am and have been. I ask a kiss."

Her lips still invited me.

"I love you, Judith," says I, "and always have."

Her lips came closer.

"I would be your husband," I declared.

"Kiss me, Dannie," she whispered.

"And there is no God," says I, "between us?"

"There is no God," she answered, "against us."

I kissed her.

"You'll do it again, will you not?" says she.

"I'll kiss your sweet tears," says I. "I'll kiss un away."

"Then kiss my tears."

I kissed them away.

"That's good," says she; "that's very good. An' now?"

"I'll speak with my uncle," says I, "as you knowed I would."

I sought my uncle.

"Sir," says I, "where's the writing?"

"'Tis in your father's Bible," he answered.

I got it from the Book and touched a flaring match to it. "'Tis the
end of _that_, sir," says I. "You an' me, sir," says I, "will be
shipmates to the end of the voyage."

He rose.

"You're not able, sir," says I.

"I is!" he declared.

'Twas with difficulty he got to his feet, but he managed it; and then
he turned to me, though I could see him ill enough in the dark.

"Dannie, lad," says he, "I 'low I've fetched ye up very well. Ye is,"
says he, "a--"

"Hush!" says I; "don't say it."

"I will!" says he.

"Don't!" I pleaded.

"You _is_," he declared, "a gentleman!"

The night and the abominable revelations of it were ended for my uncle
and me in this way....

* * * * *

And so it came about that the Honorable was troubled no more by our
demands, whatever the political necessities that might assail him,
whatever the sins of other days, the black youth of him, that might
fairly beset and harass him. He was left in peace, to follow his
career, restored to the possessions my uncle had wrested from him, in
so far as we were able to make restitution. There was no more of it:
we met him afterwards, in genial intercourse, but made no call upon
his moneybags, as you may well believe. My uncle and I made a new
partnership: that of Top & Callaway, of which you may have heard, for
the honesty of our trade and the worth of the schooners we build. He
is used to taking my hand, upon the little finger of which I still
wear the seal-ring he was doubtful of in the days when Tom Bull
inspected it. "A D for Dannie," says he, "an' a C for Callaway, an'
betwixt the two," says he, "lyin' snug as you like, is a T for Top!
An' that's the way I lie