then I will pay my passage from there home. Then she will not do any
more work."

"But does she work? now? How old is she?"

"About seventy," he answered. And then, boastingly, "We work from the
time we are born until we die, in my country. That's why we live so
long. I will live to a hundred."

I shall never forget this conversation. The words were the last I ever
heard him utter. Perhaps they were the last he did utter, too. For,
going down into the cabin to turn in, I decided that it was too stuffy to
sleep below. It was a calm night. We were out of the Trades, and the
_Ghost_ was forging ahead barely a knot an hour. So I tucked a blanket
and pillow under my arm and went up on deck.

As I passed between Harrison and the binnacle, which was built into the
top of the cabin, I noticed that he was this time fully three points off.
Thinking that he was asleep, and wishing him to escape reprimand or
worse, I spoke to him. But he was not asleep. His eyes were wide and
staring. He seemed greatly perturbed, unable to reply to me.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Are you sick?"

He shook his head, and with a deep sign as of awakening, caught his
breath.

"You'd better get on your course, then," I chided.

He put a few spokes over, and I watched the compass-card swing slowly to
N.N.W. and steady itself with slight oscillations.

I took a fresh hold on my bedclothes and was preparing to start on, when
some movement caught my eye and I looked astern to the rail. A sinewy
hand, dripping with water, was clutching the rail. A second hand took
form in the darkness beside it. I watched, fascinated. What visitant
from the gloom of the deep was I to behold? Whatever it was, I knew that
it was climbing aboard by the log-line. I saw a head, the hair wet and
straight, shape itself, and then the unmistakable eyes and face of Wolf
Larsen. His right cheek was red with blood, which flowed from some wound
in the head.

He drew himself inboard with a quick effort, and arose to his feet,
glancing swiftly, as he did so, at the man at the wheel, as though to
assure himself of his identity and that there was nothing to fear from
him. The sea-water was streaming from him. It made little audible
gurgles which distracted me. As he stepped toward me I shrank back
instinctively, for I saw that in his eyes which spelled death.

"All right, Hump," he said in a low voice. "Where's the mate?"

I shook my head.

"Johan