g."

"Being myself a deep-water man sailing steadily out of home ports nearly
all my life," said Shaw with great deliberation, "I cannot pretend to
see through the peculiarities of them out-of-the-way parts. But I can
keep a lookout in an ordinary way, and I have noticed that craft of any
kind seemed scarce, for the last few days: considering that we had land
aboard of us--one side or another--nearly every day."

"You will get to know the peculiarities, as you call them, if you remain
any time with me," remarked Lingard, negligently.

"I hope I shall give satisfaction, whether the time be long or short!"
said Shaw, accentuating the meaning of his words by the distinctness
of his utterance. "A man who has spent thirty-two years of his life on
saltwater can say no more. If being an officer of home ships for the
last fifteen years I don't understand the heathen ways of them there
savages, in matters of seamanship and duty, you will find me all there,
Captain Lingard."

"Except, judging from what you said a little while ago--except in the
matter of fighting," said Lingard, with a short laugh.

"Fighting! I am not aware that anybody wants to fight me. I am a
peaceable man, Captain Lingard, but when put to it, I could fight as
well as any of them flat-nosed chaps we have to make shift with, instead
of a proper crew of decent Christians. Fighting!" he went on with
unexpected pugnacity of tone, "Fighting! If anybody comes to fight me,
he will find me all there, I swear!"

"That's all right. That's all right," said Lingard, stretching his arms
above his head and wriggling his shoulders. "My word! I do wish a breeze
would come to let us get away from here. I am rather in a hurry, Shaw."

"Indeed, sir! Well, I never yet met a thorough seafaring man who was not
in a hurry when a con-demned spell of calm had him by the heels. When a
breeze comes . . . just listen to this, sir!"

"I hear it," said Lingard. "Tide-rip, Shaw."

"So I presume, sir. But what a fuss it makes. Seldom heard such a--"

On the sea, upon the furthest limits of vision, appeared an advancing
streak of seething foam, resembling a narrow white ribbon, drawn rapidly
along the level surface of the water by its two ends, which were lost in
the darkness. It reached the brig, passed under, stretching out on each
side; and on each side the water became noisy, breaking into numerous
and tiny wavelets, a mimicry of an immense agitation. Yet the vessel in
the mid