Whalley's
blindness had opened his eyes to his own. There were many sorts of
heartaches and troubles, and there was no place where they could not
find a man out. And he felt ashamed, as though he had for six years
behaved like a peevish boy.

His thought followed the Sofala on her way. On the spur of the moment he
had acted impulsively, turning to the thing most pressing. And what else
could he have done? Later on he should see. It seemed necessary that
he should come out into the world, for a time at least. He had
money--something could be arranged; he would grudge no time, no trouble,
no loss of his solitude. It weighed on him now--and Captain Whalley
appeared to him as he had sat shading his eyes, as if, being deceived in
the trust of his faith, he were beyond all the good and evil that can be
wrought by the hands of men.

Mr. Van Wyk's thoughts followed the Sofala down the river, winding about
through the belt of the coast forest, between the buttressed shafts of
the big trees, through the mangrove strip, and over the bar. The ship
crossed it easily in broad daylight, piloted, as it happened, by Mr.
Sterne, who took the watch from four to six, and then went below to hug
himself with delight at the prospect of being virtually employed by a
rich man--like Mr. Van Wyk. He could not see how any hitch could occur
now. He did not seem able to get over the feeling of being "fixed up at
last." From six to eight, in the course of duty, the Serang looked alone
after the ship. She had a clear road before her now till about three
in the morning, when she would close with the Pangu group. At eight Mr.
Sterne came out cheerily to take charge again till midnight. At ten he
was still chirruping and humming to himself on the bridge, and about
that time Mr. Van Wyk's thought abandoned the Sofala. Mr. Van Wyk had
fallen asleep at last.

Massy, blocking the engine-room companion, jerked himself into his tweed
jacket surlily, while the second waited with a scowl.

"Oh. You came out? You sot! Well, what have you got to say for
yourself?"

He had been in charge of the engines till then. A somber fury darkened
his mind: a hot anger against the ship, against the facts of life,
against the men for their cheating, against himself too--because of an
inward tremor of his heart.

An incomprehensible growl answered him.

"What? Can't you open your mouth now? You yelp out your infernal rot
loud enough when you are drunk. What do you mean