ty,
the sight of Hassim and his sister, the night, the tempest, the coast
under streams of fire--all this made one inspiring manifestation of a
life calling to him distinctly for interference. But what appealed to
him most was the silent, the complete, unquestioning, and apparently
uncurious, trust of these people. They came away from death straight
into his arms as it were, and remained in them passive as though
there had been no such thing as doubt or hope or desire. This amazing
unconcern seemed to put him under a heavy load of obligation.

He argued to himself that had not these defeated men expected everything
from him they could not have been so indifferent to his action. Their
dumb quietude stirred him more than the most ardent pleading. Not a
word, not a whisper, not a questioning look even! They did not ask! It
flattered him. He was also rather glad of it, because if the unconscious
part of him was perfectly certain of its action, he, himself, did not
know what to do with those bruised and battered beings a playful fate
had delivered suddenly into his hands.

He had received the fugitives personally, had helped some over the rail;
in the darkness, slashed about by lightning, he had guessed that not one
of them was unwounded, and in the midst of tottering shapes he wondered
how on earth they had managed to reach the long-boat that had brought
them off. He caught unceremoniously in his arms the smallest of these
shapes and carried it into the cabin, then without looking at his light
burden ran up again on deck to get the brig under way. While shouting
out orders he was dimly aware of someone hovering near his elbow. It was
Hassim.

"I am not ready for war," he explained, rapidly, over his shoulder,
"and to-morrow there may be no wind." Afterward for a time he forgot
everybody and everything while he conned the brig through the few
outlying dangers. But in half an hour, and running off with the wind on
the quarter, he was quite clear of the coast and breathed freely. It
was only then that he approached two others on that poop where he was
accustomed in moments of difficulty to commune alone with his craft.
Hassim had called his sister out of the cabin; now and then Lingard
could see them with fierce distinctness, side by side, and with twined
arms, looking toward the mysterious country that seemed at every flash
to leap away farther from the brig--unscathed and fading.

The thought uppermost in Lingard's mind