Asoftlightsuffusedhisfaceandhiseyesglistened，asthoughsomewhereinthedeepsofhisbeinghisancestorshadquickenedandstirredwithdimmemoriesoftipsreceivedinformerlives。
　　"Thankyou，sir，"hesaid，verygratefullyandveryhumblyindeed。
　　Preciselyinthewaythatthedoorslidback，heslidaside，andIsteppedoutondeck。Iwasstillweakfrommyprolongedimmersion。Apuffofwindcaughtme，andIstaggeredacrossthemovingdecktoacornerofthecabin，towhichIclungforsupport。Theschooner，heeledoverfaroutfromtheperpendicular，wasbowingandplungingintothelongPacificroll。IfshewereheadingsouthwestasJohnsonhadsaid，thewind，then，Icalculated，wasblowingnearlyfromthesouth。Thefogwasgone，andinitsplacethesunsparkledcrisplyonthesurfaceofthewater。Iturnedtotheeast，whereIknewCaliforniamustlie，butcouldseenothingsavelow—lyingfog—banks——thesamefog，doubtless，thathadbroughtaboutthedisastertotheMartinezandplacedmeinmypresentsituation。Tothenorth，andnotfaraway，agroupofnakedrocksthrustabovethesea，ononeofwhichcoulddistinguishalighthouse。Inthesouthwest，andalmostinourcourse，Isawthepyramidalloomofsomevessel’ssails。
　　Havingcompletedmysurveyofthehorizon，Iturnedtomymoreimmediatesurroundings。MyfirstthoughtwasthatamanwhohadcomethroughacollisionandrubbedshoulderswithdeathmeritedmoreattentionthanIreceived。
　　Beyondasailoratthewheelwhostaredcuriouslyacrossthetopofthecabin，Iattractednonoticewhatever。
　　Everybodyseemedinterestedinwhatwasgoingonamidships。There，onahatch，alargemanwaslyingonhisback。Hewasfullyclothed，thoughhisshirtwasrippedopeninfront。Nothingwastobeseenofhischest，however，foritwascoveredwithamassofblackhair，inappearancelikethefurrycoatofadog。Hisfaceandneckwerehiddenbeneathablackbeard，intershotwithgray，whichwouldhavebeenstiffandbushyhaditnotbeenlimpanddraggledanddrippingwithwater。Hiseyeswereclosed，andhewasapparentlyunconscious；buthismouthwaswideopen，hisbreastheavingasthoughfromsuffocationashelaborednoisilyforbreath。A
　　sailor，fromtimetotimeandquitemethodically，asamatterofroutine，droppedacanvasbucketintotheoceanattheendofarope，hauleditinhandunderhand，andsluiceditscontentsovertheprostrateman。
　　Pacingbackandforththelengthofthehatchway，andsavagelychewingtheendofacigar，wasthemanwhosecasualglancehadrescuedmefromthesea。Hisheightwasprobablyfivefeetteninches，ortenandahalf；
　　butmyfirstimpression，orfeeloftheman，wasnotofthis，butofhisstrength。Andyet，whilehewasofmassivebuild，withbroadshouldersanddeepchest，Icouldnotcharacterizehisstrengthasmassive。Itwaswhatmightbetermedasinewy，knottystrength，ofthekindweascribetoleanandwirymen，butwhich，inhim，becauseofhisheavybuild，partookmoreoftheenlargedgorillaorder。Notthatinappearanceheseemedintheleastgorilla—like。WhatIamstrivingtoexpressisthisstrengthitself，moreasathingapartfromhisphysicalsemblance。Itwasastrengthwearewonttoassociatewiththingsprimitive，withwildanimals，andthecreaturesweimagineourtree—dwellingprototypestohavebeen——
　　astrengthsavage，ferocious，aliveinitself，theessenceoflifeinthatitisthepotencyofmotion，theelementalstuffitselfoutofwhichthemanyformsoflifehavebeenmolded；inshort，thatwhichwrithesinthebodyofasnakewhentheheadiscutoff，andthesnake，asasnake，isdead，orwhichlingersinashapelesslumpofturtle—meatandrecoilsandquiversfromtheprodofafinger。
　　SuchwastheimpressionofstrengthIgatheredfromthismanwhopacedupanddown。Hewasfirmlyplantedonhislegs；hisfeetstruckthedecksquarelyandwithsurety；everymovementofamuscle，fromtheheaveoftheshoulderstothetighteningofthelipsaboutthecigar，wasdecisive，andseemedtocomeoutofastrengththatwasexcessiveandoverwhelming。
　　Infact，thoughthisstrengthpervadedeveryactionofhis，itseemedbuttheadvertisementofagreaterstrengththatlurkedwithin，thatlaydormantandnomorethanstirredfromtimetotime，butwhichmightarouse，atanymoment，terribleandcompelling，liketherageofalionorthewrathofastorm。
　　Thecookstuckhisheadoutofthegalleydoorandgrinnedencouraginglyatme，atthesametimejerkinghisthumbinthedirectionofthemanwhopacedupanddownbythehatchway。ThusIwasgiventounderstandthathewasthecaptain，the"OldMan，"inthecook’svernacular，theindividualwhomImustinterviewandputtothetroubleofsomehowgettingmeashore。
　　Ihadhalfstartedforward，togetoverwithwhatIwascertainwouldbeastormyfiveminutes，whenamoreviolentsuffocatingparoxysmseizedtheunfortunatepersonwhowaslyingonhisback。Hewrenchedandwrithedaboutconvulsively。Thechin，withthedampblackbeard，pointedhigherintheairasthebackmusclesstiffenedandthechestswelledinanunconsciousandinstinctiveefforttogetmoreair。Underthewhiskers，andallunseen，Iknewthattheskinwastakingonapurplishhue。
　　Thecaptain，orWolfLarsen，asmencalledhim，ceasedpacingandgazeddownatthedyingman。Sofiercehadthisfinalstrugglebecomethatthesailorpausedintheactofflingingmorewateroverhimandstaredcuriously，thecanvasbucketpartlytiltedanddrippingitscontentstothedeck。
　　Thedyingmanbeatatattooonthehatchwithhisheels，straightenedouthislegs，andstiffenedinonegreattenseeffort，androlledhisheadfromsidetoside。Thenthemusclesrelaxed，theheadstoppedrolling，andasigh，asofprofoundrelief，floatedupwardfromhislips。Thejawdropped，theupperliplifted，andtworowsoftobacco—discoloredteethappeared。Itseemedasthoughhisfeatureshadfrozenintoadiabolicalgrinattheworldhehadleftandoutwitted。
　　Thenamostsurprisingthingoccurred。Thecaptainbrokelooseuponthedeadmanlikeathunderclap。Oathsrolledfromhislipsinacontinuousstream。Andtheywerenotnamby—pambyoaths，ormereexpressionsofindecency。
　　Eachwordwasablasphemy，andthereweremanywords。Theycrispedandcrackledlikeelectricsparks。Ihadneverheardanythinglikeitinmylife，norcouldIhaveconceiveditpossible。Withaturnforliteraryexpressionmyself，andapenchantforforciblefiguresandphrases，Iappreciated，asnootherlistener，daresay，thepeculiarvividnessandstrengthandabsoluteblasphemyofhismetaphors。Thecauseofitall，asnearasI
　　couldmakeout，wasthattheman，whowasmate，hadgoneonadebauchbeforeleavingSanFrancisco，andthenhadthepoortastetodieatthebeginningofthevoyageandleaveWolfLarsenshort—handed。
　　Itshouldbeunnecessarytostate，atleasttomyfriends，thatIwasshocked。Oathsandvilelanguageofanysorthadalwaysbeenrepellenttome。Ifeltawiltingsensation，asinkingattheheart，and，Imightjustaswellsay，agiddiness。Tome，deathhadalwaysbeeninvestedwithsolemnityanddignity。Ithadbeenpeacefulinitsoccurrence，sacredinitsceremonial。ButdeathinitsmoresordidandterribleaspectswasathingwithwhichIhadbeenunacquaintedtillnow。AsIsay，whileIappreciatedthepoweroftheterrificdenunciationthatsweptoutofWolfLarsen’smouth，Iwasinexpressiblyshocked。Thescorchingtorrentwasenoughtowitherthefaceofthecorpse。Ishouldnothavebeensurprisedifthewetblackbeardhadfrizzledandcurledandflaredupinsmokeandflame。
　　Butthedeadmanwasunconcerned。Hecontinuedtogrinwithasardonichumor，withacynicalmockeryanddefiance。Hewasmasterofthesituation。TheSeaWolf：Chapter3CHAPTER3
　　WolfLarsenceasedswearingassuddenlyashehadbegun。Herelightedhiscigarandglancedaround。Hiseyeschanceduponthecook。
　　"Well，Cooky？"hebegan，withasuavenessthatwascoldandofthetemperofsteel。
　　"Yes，sir，"thecookeagerlyinterpolated，withappeasingandapologeticservility。
　　"Don’tyouthinkyou’vestretchedthatneckofyoursjustaboutenough？
　　It’sunhealthy，youknow。Themate’sgone，soIcan’taffordtoloseyoutoo。Youmustbevery，verycarefulofyourhealth，Cooky。Understand？"
　　Hislastword，instrikingcontrastwiththesmoothnessofhispreviousutterance，snappedlikethelashofawhip。Thecookquailedunderit。
　　"Yes，sir，"wasthemeekreply，astheoffendingheaddisappearedintothegalley。
　　Atthissweepingrebuke，whichthecookhadonlypointed，therestofthecrewbecameuninterestedandfelltoworkatonetaskoranother。A
　　numberofmen，however，whowereloungingaboutacompanionwaybetweenthegalleyandthehatch，andwhodidnotseemtobesailors，continuedtalkinginlowtoneswithoneanother。These，afterwardlearned，werethehunters，themenwhoshottheseals，andaverysuperiorbreedtocommonsailor—folk。
　　"Johansen！"WolfLarsencalledout。Asailorsteppedforwardobediently。
　　"Getyourpalmandneedleandsewthebeggarup。You’llfindsomeoldcanvasinthesail—locker。Makeitdo。"
　　"What’llIputonhisfeet，sir？"themanasked，afterthecustomary"Ay，ay，sir。"
　　"We’llseetothat，"WolfLarsenanswered，andelevatedhisvoiceinacallof"Cooky！"
　　ThomasMugridgepoppedoutofhisgalleylikeajack—in—the—box。
　　"Gobelowandfillasackwithcoal。"
　　"AnyofyoufellowsgotaBibleorprayer—book？"wasthecaptain’snextdemand，thistimeofthehuntersloungingaboutthecompanionway。
　　Theyshooktheirheads，andsomeonemadeajocularremarkwhichIdidnotcatch，butwhichraisedagenerallaugh。
　　WolfLarsenmadethesamedemandofthesailors。Biblesandprayer—booksseemedscarcearticles，butoneofthemenvolunteeredtopursuethequestamongstthewatchbelow，returninginaminutewiththeinformationthattherewasnone。
　　Thecaptainshruggedhisshoulders。"Thenwe’lldrophimoverwithoutanypalavering，unlessourclerical—lookingcast—awayhastheburialserviceatseabyheart。"
　　Bythistimehehadswungfullyaroundandwasfacingme。
　　"You’reapreacher，aren’tyou？"heasked。
　　Thehunters，——thereweresixofthem，——toaman，turnedandregardedme。Iwaspainfullyawareofmylikenesstoascarecrow。Alaughwentupatmyappearance，——alaughthatwasnotlessenedorsoftenedbythedeadmanstretchedandgrinningonthedeckbeforeus；alaughthatwasasroughandharshandfrankastheseaitself；thataroseoutofcoarsefeelingsandbluntedsensibilities，fromnaturesthatknewneithercourtesynorgentleness。
　　WolfLarsendidnotlaugh，thoughhisgrayeyeslightedwithaslightglintofamusement；andinthatmoment，havingsteppedforwardquiteclosetohim，Ireceivedmyfirstimpressionofthemanhimself，ofthemanasapartfromhisbodyandfromthetorrentofblasphemyhadheardhimspewforth。Theface，withlargefeaturesandstronglines，ofthesquareorder，yetwellfilledout，wasapparentlymassiveatfirstsight；butagain，aswiththebody，themassivenessseemedtovanishandaconvictiontogrowofatremendousandexcessivementalorspiritualstrengththatlaybehind，sleepinginthedeepsofhisbeing。Thejaw，thechin，thebrowrisingtoagoodlyheightandswellingheavilyabovetheeyes，——these，whilestronginthemselves，unusuallystrong，seemedtospeakanimmensevigororvirilityofspiritthatlaybehindandbeyondandoutofsight。
　　Therewasnosoundingsuchaspirit，nomeasuring，nodeterminingofmetesandbounds，norneatlyclassifyinginsomepigeonholewithothersofsimilartype。
　　Theeyes——anditwasmydestinytoknowthemwell——werelargeandhandsome，wideapartasthetrueartist’sarewide，shelteringunderaheavybrowandarchedoverbythickblackeyebrows。Theeyesthemselveswereofthatbafflingproteangraywhichisnevertwicethesame；whichrunsthroughmanyshadesandcoloringslikeintershotsilkinsunshine；
　　whichisgray，darkandlight，andgreenishgray，andsometimesoftheclearazureofthedeepsea。Theywereeyesthatmaskedthesoulwithathousandguises，andthatsometimesopened，atraremoments，andallowedittorushupasthoughitwereabouttofareforthnakedlyintotheworldonsomewonderfuladventure，——eyesthatcouldbroodwiththehopelesssombrenessofleadenskies；thatcouldsnapandcracklepointsoffirelikethosewhichsparklefromawhirlingsword；thatcouldgrowchillasanarcticlandscape，andyetagain，thatcouldwarmandsoftenandbealla—dancewithlove—lights，intenseandmasculine，luringandcompelling，whichatthesametimefascinateanddominatewomentilltheysurrenderinagladnessofjoyandofreliefandsacrifice。
　　Buttoreturn。Itoldhimthat，unhappilyfortheburialservice，I
　　wasnotapreacher，whenhesharplydemanded：
　　"Whatdoyoudoforaliving？"
　　IconfessIhadneverhadsuchaquestionaskedmebefore，norhadI
　　evercanvassedit。Iwasquitetakenaback，andbeforeIcouldfindmyselfhadsillilystammered，"Iamagentleman。"
　　Hislipcurledinaswiftsneer。
　　"Ihaveworked，Idowork，"Icriedimpetuously，asthoughheweremyjudgeandIrequiredvindication，andatthesametimeverymuchawareofmyarrantidiocyindiscussingthesubjectatall。
　　"Foryourliving？"
　　TherewassomethingsoimperativeandmasterfulabouthimthatIwasquitebesidemyself——"rattled，"asFurusethwouldhavetermedit，likeaquakingchildbeforeasternschoolmaster。
　　"Whofeedsyou？"washisnextquestion。
　　"Ihaveanincome，"Iansweredstoutly，andcouldhavebittenmytonguethenextinstant。"Allofwhich，youwillpardonmyobserving，hasnothingwhatsoevertodowithwhatIwishtoseeyouabout。"
　　Buthedisregardedmyprotest。
　　"Whoearnedit？Eh？Ithoughtso。Yourfather。Youstandondeadmen’slegs。You’veneverhadanyofyourown。Youcouldn’twalkalonebetweentwosunrisesandhustlethemeatforyourbellyforthreemeals。Letmeseeyourhand。"
　　Histremendous，dormantstrengthmusthavestirred，swiftlyandaccurately，orImusthavesleptamoment，forbeforeIknewithehadsteppedtwopacesforward，grippedmyrighthandinhis，andhelditupforinspection。
　　Itriedtowithdrawit，buthisfingerstightened，withoutvisibleeffort，tillIthoughtminewouldbecrushed。Itishardtomaintainone’sdignityundersuchcircumstances。Icouldnotsquirmorstrugglelikeaschoolboy。
　　NorcouldIattacksuchacreaturewhohadbuttotwistmyarmtobreakit。Nothingremainedbuttostandstillandaccepttheindignity。Ihadtimetonoticethatthepocketsofthedeadmanhadbeenemptiedonthedeck，andthathisbodyandhisgrinhadbeenwrappedfromviewincanvas，thefoldsofwhichthesailor，Johansen，wassewingtogetherwithcoarsewhitetwine，shovingtheneedlethroughwithaleathercontrivancefittedonthepalmofhishand。
　　WolfLarsendroppedmyhandwithaflirtofdisdain。
　　"Deadmen’shandshavekeptitsoft。Goodforlittleelsethandish—washingandscullionwork。"
　　"Iwishtobeputashore，"Isaidfirmly，forInowhadmyselfincontrol。
　　"Ishallpayyouwhateveryoujudgeyourdelayandtroubletobeworth。"
　　Helookedatmecuriously。Mockeryshoneinhiseyes。
　　"Ihaveacounterpropositiontomake，andforthegoodofyoursoul。
　　Mymate’sgone，andthere’llbealotofpromotion。Asailorcomesafttotakemate’splace，cabin—boygoesfor’ardtotakesailor’splace，andyoutakethecabin—boy’splace，signthearticlesforthecruise，twentydollarspermonthandfound。Nowwhatdoyousay？Andmindyou，it’sforyourownsoul’ssake。Itwillbethemakingofyou。Youmightlearnintimetostandonyourownlegsandperhapstotoddlealongabit。"
　　ButItooknonotice。ThesailsofthevesselIhadseenofftothesouthwesthadgrownlargerandplainer。Theywereofthesameschooner—rigastheGhost，thoughthehullitself，Icouldsee，wassmaller。
　　Shewasaprettysight，leapingandflyingtowardus，andevidentlyboundtopassatcloserange。Thewindhadbeenmomentarilyincreasing，andthesun，afterafewangrygleams，haddisappeared。Theseahadturnedadullleadengrayandgrownrougher，andwasnowtossingfoamingwhitecapstothesky。Weweretravellingfasterandheeledfartherover。Once，inagust，theraildippedunderthesea，andthedecksonthatsidewereforthemomentawashwithwaterthatmadeacoupleofthehuntershastilylifttheirfeet。
　　"Thatvesselwillsoonbepassingus，"Isaid，afteramoment’spause。
　　"Assheisgoingintheoppositedirection，sheisveryprobablyboundforSanFrancisco。"
　　"Veryprobably，"wasWolfLarsen’sanswer，asheturnedpartlyawayfrommeandcriedout，"Cooky！Oh，Cooky！"
　　TheCockneypoppedoutofthegalley。
　　"Where’sthatboy？TellhimIwanthim。"
　　"Yes，sir；"andThomasMugridgefledswiftlyaftanddisappeareddownanothercompanionwaynearthewheel。Amomentlaterheemerged，aheavy—setyoungfellowofeighteenornineteen，withaglowering，villanouscountenance，trailingathisheels。
　　"’Ere’eis，sir，"thecooksaid。
　　ButWolfLarsenignoredthatworthy，turningatoncetothecabin—boy。
　　"What’syourname，boy？"
　　"GeorgeLeach，sir，"camethesullenanswer，andtheboy’sbearingshowedclearlythathedivinedthereasonforwhichhehadbeensummoned。
　　"NotanIrishname，"thecaptainsnappedsharply。"O’TooleorMcCarthywouldsuityourmugadamnsightbetter。Unless，verylikely，there’sanIrishmaninyourmother’swoodpile。"
　　Isawtheyoungfellow’shandsclenchattheinsult，andthebloodcrawlscarletuphisneck。
　　"Butletthatgo，"WolfLarsencontinued。"Youmayhaveverygoodreasonsforforgettingyourname，andI’lllikeyounonetheworseforitaslongasyoutoethemark。TelegraphHill，ofcourse，isyourportofentry。
　　Itsticksoutalloveryourmug。Toughastheymakethemandtwiceasnasty。
　　Iknowthekind。Well，youcanmakeupyourmindtohaveittakenoutofyouonthiscraft。Understand？Whoshippedyou，anyway？"
　　"McCreadyandSwanson。"
　　"Sir！"WolfLarsenthundered。
　　"McCreadyandSwanson，sir，"theboycorrected，hiseyesburningwithabitterlight。
　　"Whogottheadvancemoney？"
　　"Theydid，sir。"
　　"Ithoughtasmuch。Anddamnedgladyouweretoletthemhaveit。Couldn’tmakeyourselfscarcetooquick，withseveralgentlemenyoumayhaveheardoflookingforyou。"
　　Theboymetamorphosedintoasavageontheinstant。Hisbodybunchedtogetherasthoughforaspring，andhisfacebecameasaninfuriatedbeast’sashesnarled，"It’sa——"
　　"Awhat？"WolfLarsenasked，apeculiarsoftnessinhisvoice，asthoughhewereoverwhelminglycurioustoheartheunspokenword。
　　Theboyhesitated，thenmasteredhistemper。"Nothin’，sir。takeitback。"
　　"AndyouhaveshownmeIwasright。"Thiswithagratifiedsmile。"Howoldareyou？"
　　"Justturnedsixteen，sir。"
　　"Alie。You’llneverseeeighteenagain。Bigforyourageatthat，withmuscleslikeahorse。Packupyourkitandgofor’ardintothefo’c’sle。
　　You’reaboat—pullernow。You’repromoted；see？"
　　Withoutwaitingfortheboy’sacceptance，thecaptainturnedtothesailorwhohadjustfinishedthegrewsometaskofsewingupthecorpse。
　　"Johansen，doyouknowanythingaboutnavigation？"
　　"No，sir。"
　　"Well，nevermind；you’rematejustthesame。Getyourtrapsaftintothemate’sberth。"
　　"Ay，ay，sir，"wasthecheeryresponse，asJohansenstartedforward。
　　Inthemeantimetheerstwhilecabin—boyhadnotmoved。
　　"Whatareyouwaitingfor？"WolfLarsendemanded。
　　"Ididn’tsignforboat—puller，sir，"wasthereply。"Isignedforcabin—boy。
　　An’Idon’twantnoboat—pullin’inmine。"
　　"Packupandgofor’ard。"
　　ThistimeWolfLarsen’scommandwasthrillinglyimperative。Theboygloweredsullenly，butrefusedtomove。
　　ThencameanotherstirringofWolfLarsen’stremendousstrength。Itwasutterlyunexpected，anditwasoveranddonewithbetweentheticksoftwoseconds。Hehadsprungfullysixfeetacrossthedeckanddrivenhisfistintotheother’sstomach。Atthesamemoment，asthoughIhadbeenstruckmyself，Ifeltasickeningshockinthepitofmystomach。
　　Iinstancethistoshowthesensitivenessofmynervousorganizationatthetime，andhowunusedIwastospectaclesofbrutality。Thecabin—boy——andheweighedonehundredandsixty—fiveattheveryleast——crumpledup。Hisbodywrappedlimplyaboutthefistlikeawetragaboutastick。
　　Heliftedintotheair，describedashortcurve，andstruckthedeckalongsidethecorpseonhisheadandshoulders，wherehelayandwrithedaboutinagony。
　　"Well？"Larsenaskedofme。"Haveyoumadeupyourmind？"
　　Ihadglancedoccasionallyattheapproachingschooner，anditwasnowalmostabreastofusandnotmorethanacoupleofhundredyardsaway。
　　Itwasaverytrimandneatlittlecraft。Icouldseealarge，blacknumberononeofitssails，andIhadseenpicturesofpilot—boats。
　　"Whatvesselisthat？"Iasked。
　　"Thepilot—boatLadyMine，"WolfLarsenansweredgrimly。"GotridofherpilotsandrunningintoSanFrancisco。She’llbethereinfiveorsixhourswiththiswind。"
　　"Willyoupleasesignalit，then，sothatImaybeputashore。"
　　"Sorry，butI’velostthesignalbookoverboard，"heremarked，andthegroupofhuntersgrinned。
　　Idebatedamoment，lookinghimsquarelyintheeyes。Ihadseenthefrightfultreatmentofthecabin—boy，andknewthatIshouldveryprobablyreceivethesame，ifnotworse。AsIsay，Idebatedwithmyself，andthenIdidwhatIconsiderthebravestactofmylife。Irantotheside，wavingmyarmsandshouting：
　　"LadyMineahoy！Takemeashore！Athousanddollarsifyoutakemeashore！"
　　Iwaited，watchingtwomenwhostoodbythewheel，oneofthemsteering。
　　Theotherwasliftingamegaphonetohislips。Ididnotturnmyhead，thoughIexpectedeverymomentakillingblowfromthehumanbrutebehindme。Atlast，afterwhatseemedcenturies，unablelongertostandthestrain，Ilookedaround。Hehadnotmoved。Hewasstandinginthesameposition，swayingeasilytotherolloftheshipandlightingafreshcigar。
　　"Whatisthematter？Anythingwrong？"
　　ThiswasthecryfromtheLadyMine。
　　"Yes！"Ishouted，atthetopofmylungs。"Lifeordeath！Onethousanddollarsifyoutakemeashore！"
　　"Toomuch’Friscotanglefootforthehealthofmycrew！"WolfLarsenshoutedafter。"Thisone，"——indicatingmewithhisthumb，——"fanciessea—serpentsandmonkeysjustnow！"
　　ThemanontheLadyMinelaughedbackthroughthemegaphone。
　　Thepilot—boatplungedpast。
　　"Givehimhellforme！"cameafinalcry，andthetwomenwavedtheirarmsinfarewell。
　　Ileaneddespairinglyovertherail，watchingthetrimlittleschoonerswiftlyincreasingthebleaksweepofoceanbetweenus。AndshewouldprobablybeinSanFranciscoinfiveorsixhours！Myheadseemedbursting。Therewasanacheinmythroatasthoughmyheartwereupinit。Acurlingwavestruckthesideandsplashedsaltsprayonmylips。Thewindpuffedstrongly，andtheGhostheeledfarover，buryingherleerail。Icouldhearthewaterrushingdownuponthedeck。
　　WhenIturnedaround，amomentlater，Isawthecabin—boystaggeringtohisfeet。Hisfacewasghastlywhite，twitchingwithsuppressedpain。
　　Helookedverysick。