of the moon staring out of a stormy sky.

'See, Helga!' I cried; 'there are many like her, as this man says. In a
few hours, please God, we may be safe aboard such another!' And I sank
my voice to add, 'We cannot do better than wait. Our friends here will
be glad to get rid of us. No fear of their detaining us a moment longer
than can be helped.'

'Yes, you are right,' she answered; 'but I wish to quickly return for
your sake--for your mother's sake, Hugh.'

Her soft utterance of my name fell pleasantly upon my ear. I felt for
her hand and pressed it, and whispered, 'A little patience, and we shall
find ourselves at home again. All is well with us now.'

The lights to leeward silently glided ahead, and turned black upon the
bow. One of the boatmen yawned with the roar of a cow.

'Nothen to keep me out of my bunk now, I allow,' said he. 'No more rafts
to run into, I hope.'

'I should like to get this lady under shelter,' said I.

'That's easily done!' exclaimed Abraham. 'There's a nice little forepeak
and a bunk in it at her sarvice.'

Helga hastily explained that she had had rest enough. I perceived that
the delicacy of our Deal friends did not go to the length of observing
that while Helga occupied the forepeak it must be hers, and hers only;
but the discussion of that point was out of the question now; so she
stayed where she was, the boatman that had yawned went forward, and in a
few minutes his snoring came along in a sound like the grating of a
boat's keel over the shingle of his native town.

These darkest hours of the night slowly passed. The breeze blew, the
keen stem of the lugger ripped through the quiet heave of the ocean, and
I waited for the dawn, never doubting that Helga and I would be out of
the boat and aboard some homeward-bounder ere we should have counted
another half-score hours. The homely chat of the two men, their queer
'longshore phrases, the rough sympathy they sought to convey by their

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