faint breathless wheeze
to be more careful.

"What's the matter?" I asked rather roughly, not relishing to be
admonished by this forlorn broken-down ghost.

"Nothing! Nothing, sir," he protested so hastily that he lost his poor
breath again and I felt sorry for him. "Only the captain and his missus
are sleeping on board. She's a lady that mustn't be disturbed. They
came about half-past eight, and we had a permit to have lights in the
cabin till ten to-night."

"This struck me as a considerable piece of news. I had never been in a
ship where the captain had his wife with him. I'd heard fellows say that
captains' wives could work a lot of mischief on board ship if they
happened to take a dislike to anyone; especially the new wives if young
and pretty. The old and experienced wives on the other hand fancied they
knew more about the ship than the skipper himself and had an eye like a
hawk's for what went on. They were like an extra chief mate of a
particularly sharp and unfeeling sort who made his report in the evening.
The best of them were a nuisance. In the general opinion a skipper with
his wife on board was more difficult to please; but whether to show off
his authority before an admiring female or from loving anxiety for her
safety or simply from irritation at her presence--nobody I ever heard on
the subject could tell for certain.

"After I had bundled in my things somehow I struck a match and had a
dazzling glimpse of my berth; then I pitched the roll of my bedding into
the bunk but took no trouble to spread it out. I wasn't sleepy now,
neither was I tired. And the thought that I was done with the earth for
many many months to come made me feel very quiet and self-contained as it
were. Sailors will understand what I mean."

Marlow nodded. "It is a strictly professional feeling," he commented.
"But other professions or trades know nothing of it. It is only this
calling whose primary appeal lies in the suggestion of restless adventure
which holds out that deep sensation to those who embrace it. It is
difficult to define, I admit."

"I should call it the peace of the sea," said Mr. Charles Powell in an
earnest tone but looking at us as though he expected to be met by a laugh
of derision and were half prepared to salve his reputation for common
sense by joining in it. But neither of us laughed at Mr. Charles Powell
in whose start in life we had been called to take a part. He was lucky
in his audi