and
lit the riding light. When I came on deck with it the _Maid in Two
Minds_ was still in darkness. 'That's queer,' thought I; but maybe
the _Early and Late's_ light reminded Dog Mitchell of his, for a few
minutes later he fetched it up and made it fast, takin' an uncommon
long time over the job and mutterin' to himself all the while.
(For I should tell you that, the weather bein' so still and the
distance not a hundred yards, I could hear every word.)

"'Twas then, I think, it first came into my mind that the man was
drunk, and five minutes later I was sure of it: for on his way aft he
caught his foot and tripped over something--one o' the deck-leads
maybe--and the words he ripped out 'twould turn me cold to repeat.
His voice was thick, too, and after cursin' away for half a minute it
dropped to a sort of growl, same as you'll hear a man use when he's
full o' drink and reckons he has a grudge against somebody or
something--he doesn't quite know which, or what. Thought I, ''Tis a
risky game o' those others to leave a poor chap alone in that state.
He might catch the boat afire, for one thing: and, for another, he
might fall overboard.' It crossed my mind, too, that if he fell
overboard I hadn't a boat to pull for him.

"He went below after that, and for a couple of hours no sound came
from the _Maid in Two Minds_. 'Likely enough,' thought I, 'he's
turned in, to sleep it off; and that's the best could happen to him';
and by and by I put the poor fellow clean out o' my head. I made
myself a dish o' tea, got out supper, and ate it with a thankful
heart, though I missed the boys; but, then again, I no sooner missed
them than I praised God they had caught the train. They would be
nearin' home by this time; and I sat for a while picturin' it: the
kitchen, and the women-folk there, that must have made up their minds
to spend Christmas without us; particularly Lisbeth Mary--that's my
daughter, Daniel's wife--with her mother to comfort her, an' the
firelight goin' dinky-dink round the cups and saucers on the
dresser. I pictured the joy of it, too, when Sam or Daniel struck
rat-tat and clicked open the latch, or maybe one o' the gals pricked
up an ear at the sound of their boots on the cobbles. I 'most hoped
the lads hadn't been thoughtful enough to send on a telegram.
My mind ran on all this, sir; and then for a moment it ran back to
myself, sittin' there cosy and snug after many perils, many joys;
past middle-age,