ns, a husband is a husband, and a wife a wife. It
seems to me that, in the sight of Heaven, it's he that's running fair
in the teeth of the wind, every timber straining, and she that's riding
with it, well coaled, flags flying, in an open channel, and passing the
derelict without so much as, 'Ahoy there!'"

Now, at this distance of time, I look back, and see Hungerford, "the
rowdy sailor," as he called himself, lying there, his dark grey
eyes turned full on me; and I am convinced that no honester, more
sturdy-minded man ever reefed a sail, took his turn upon the bridge, or
walked the dry land in the business of life. It did not surprise me,
a year after, when I saw in public prints that he was the hero of--but
that must be told elsewhere. I was about to answer him then as I knew
he would wish, when a steward appeared and said: "Mr. Boyd, 116
Intermediate, wishes you would come to him, sir, if you would be so
kind."

Hungerford rose, and, as I made ready to go, urged quietly: "You've got
the charts and soundings, Marmion, steam ahead!" and, with a swift but
kindly clench of my shoulder, he left me. In that moment there came a
cowardly feeling, a sense of shamefacedness, and then, hard upon it, and
overwhelming it, a determination to serve Boyd Madras so far as lay in
my power, and to be a man, and not a coward or an idler.

When I found him he was prostrate. In his eyes there was no anger, no
indignation, nor sullenness--all of which he might reasonably have felt;
and instantly I was ashamed of the thought which, as I came to him,
flashed through my mind, that he might do some violent thing. Not that
I had any fear of violence; but I had an active dislike of awkward
circumstances. I felt his fluttering pulse, and noted the blue line on
his warped lips. I gave him some medicine, and then sat down. There was
a silence. What could I say? A dozen thoughts came to my mind, but I
rejected them. It was difficult to open up the subject. At last he put
his hand upon my arm and spoke:

"You told me one night that you would help me if you could. I ought
to have accepted your offer at first; it would have been better.--No,
please don't speak just yet. I think I know what you would say. I knew
that you meant all you urged upon me; that you liked me. I was once
worthy of men's liking, perhaps, and I had good comrades; but that is
all over. You have not come near me lately, but it wasn't because you
felt any neglect, or wished to t