the lives of
the passenger list of _The Aloha_ might be worth no more than coral
headstones at the bottom of the South Atlantic. But he always
consoled himself with the cheering reflection that he had had to
come--there was no other way half so good. So _The Aloha_ continued
to plow her way as serenely as if she were heading toward the white
cliffs of Dover and trim villas and a custom-house. And the sea lay
a blue, uninhabited glory save as land that Barnay knew about marked
low blades of smoke on the horizon and slipped back into blue
sheaths.

This was the evening of the seventh day, and that noon Jarvo had
looked despondent, and Barnay had sworn strange oaths, and St.
George had been disquieted. He stood up now, going vaguely down into
his coat pockets for his pipe, his erect figure thrown in relief
against the hurrying purple. St. George was good to look at, and
Amory, with the moonlight catching the glass of his pince-nez,
smoked and watched him, shrewdly pondering upon exactly how much
anxiety for the success of the enterprise was occupying the breast
of his friend and how much of an emotion a good bit stronger. Amory
himself was not in love, but there existed between him and all who
were a special kinship, like that between a lover of music and a
musician.

Little Cawthorne rose and shuffled his feet lazily across deck.

"Where is that island, anyway?" he wanted to know, gazing
meditatively out to sea.

St. George turned as if the interruption was grateful.

"The island. I don't see any island," complained Little Cawthorne.
"I tell you," he confided, "I guess it's just Chillingworth's little
way of fixing up a nice long vacation for us."

They smiled at memory of Chillingworth's grudging and snarling
assents to even an hour off duty.

From below came Bennietod, walking slowly. The seaman's life was not
for Bennietod, and he yearned to reach land as fervently as did St.
George, though with other anxiety. He sat down on the moon-lit deck
and his face was like that of a little old man with uncanny
shrewdness. His week among them had wrought changes in the head
office boy. For Bennietod was ambitious to be a gentleman. His
covert imitations had always amused St. George and Amory. Now in the
comparative freedom of _The Aloha_ his fancy had rein and he had
adopted all the habits and the phrases which he had long reserved
and liked best, mixing them with scraps of allusions to things which
Benfy had encourag