ble you to
step forward with the rest. Senhor Santos insists on taking his chance
along with the young lady in my gig. I've told him the risk, but he
insists, and the gig'll hold no more."

"But she must have a crew, and I can row. For God's sake take me,
captain!" cried I; for Eva Denison sat weeping in her deck chair, and my
heart bled faint at the thought of leaving her, I who loved her so, and
might die without ever telling her my love! Harris, however, stood firm.

"There's that quartermaster and my steward, and Jose the nigger," said
he. "That's quite enough, Mr. Cole, for I ain't above an oar myself;
but, by God, I'm skipper o' this here ship, and I'll skip her as long as
I remain aboard!"

I saw his hand go to his belt; I saw the pistols stuck there for
mutineers. I looked at Santos. He answered me with his neutral shrug,
and, by my soul, he struck a match and lit a cigarette in that hour of
life and death! Then last I looked at Ready; and he leant invertebrate
over the rail, gasping pitiably from his exertions in regaining the
poop, a dying man once more. I pointed out his piteous state.

"At least," I whispered, "you won't refuse to take him?"

"Will there be anything to take?" said the captain brutally.

Santos advanced leisurely, and puffed his cigarette over the poor wasted
and exhausted frame.

"It is for you to decide, captain," said he cynically; "but this one
will make no deeference. Yes, I would take him. It will not be far," he
added, in a tone that was not the less detestable for being lowered.

"Take them both!" moaned little Eva, putting in her first and last sweet
word.

"Then we all drown, Evasinha," said her stepfather. "It is impossible."

"We're too many for her as it is," said the captain. "So for'ard with
ye, Mr. Cole, before it's too late."

But my darling's brave word for me had fired my blood, and I turned
with equal resolution on Harris and on the Portuguese. "I will go like
a lamb," said I, "if you will first give me five minutes' conversation
with Miss Denison. Otherwise I do not go; and as for the gig, you may
take me or leave me, as you choose."

"What have you to say to her?" asked Santos, coming up to me, and again
lowering his voice.

I lowered mine still more. "That I love her!" I answered in a soft
ecstasy. "That she may remember how I loved her, if I die!"

His shoulders shrugged a cynical acquiescence.

"By all mins, senhor; there is no harm in that."

I wa