stars
set like a reap-hook just above it.

"Well, I looked to the south-east, and there my star stood blazin',
just over the dark o' the land, with its reap-hook over its forehead.
'The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light . . .'

"While I stood staring at it, thinkin' my thoughts, there came a
noise all of a sudden from the other lugger, as if someone had kicked
over a table down below, and upset half a dozen pots and pans.
Then, almost before I had time to wonder, I heard Dog Mitchell
scramble forth on deck, find his feet in a scrufflin' way, and start
travisin' forth and back, forth and back, talkin' to himself all the
while and cursin'. He was fairly chewin' curses. I guessed what was
the matter. He had been down below toppin' things up with a last
soak of neat whisky, and now he had the shakes on him, or the
beginnings of 'em.

"You know the sayin', 'A fisherman's walk--two steps, an' overboard'?
. . . I tell you I was in misery for the man. Any moment he might
lurch overboard, or else throw himself over--one as likely as another
with a poor chap in that state. Yet how could I help--cut off,
without boat or any means to get to him?

"Forth and back he kept goin', in his heavy sea-boots. I could hear
every step he took, and when he kicked against the hatchway-coamin'
(he did this scores o' times) and when he stood still and spat
overboard. Once he tripped over the ship's mop--got the handle
a-foul of his legs, and talked to it like a pers'nal enemy.
Terrible language--terrible!

"It struck me after a bit"--here Pilot Matthey turned to me with one
of those shy smiles which, as they reveal his childish, simple heart,
compel you to love the man. "It struck me after a bit that a
hemn-tune mightn't come amiss to a man in that distress of mind.
So I pitched to sing that grand old tune, 'Partners of a glorious
hope,' a bit low at first, but louder as I picked up confidence.
Soon as he heard it he stopped short, and called out to me to shut my
head. So, findin' that hemns only excited him, I sat quiet, while he
picked up his tramp again.

"I had allowed to myself that 'twould be all right soon after eleven,
when the publics closed, and his mates would be turnin' up, to take
care of him. But eleven o'clock struck, back in the town; and the
quarters, and then twelve; and still no boat came off from shore.
Then, soon after twelve, he grew quiet of a sudden. The trampin'
stopped. I reckon