essed from the poop-rail above by the second
mate, a medium-sized, heavily built, clean-shaven, blond man.

"The tug's in sight with the crew, sir," he announced.

The mate grunted an acknowledgment, then added, "Come on down, Mr.
Mellaire, and meet our passenger."

I could not help noting the air and carriage with which Mr. Mellaire came
down the poop-ladder and took his part in the introduction. He was
courteous in an old-world way, soft-spoken, suave, and unmistakably from
south of Mason and Dixon.

"A Southerner," I said.

"Georgia, sir." He bowed and smiled, as only a Southerner can bow and
smile.

His features and expression were genial and gentle, and yet his mouth was
the cruellest gash I had ever seen in a man's face. It was a gash. There
is no other way of describing that harsh, thin-lipped, shapeless mouth
that uttered gracious things so graciously. Involuntarily I glanced at
his hands. Like the mate's, they were thick-boned, broken-knuckled, and
malformed. Back into his blue eyes I looked. On the surface of them was
a film of light, a gloss of gentle kindness and cordiality, but behind
that gloss I knew resided neither sincerity nor mercy. Behind that gloss
was something cold and terrible, that lurked and waited and
watched--something catlike, something inimical and deadly. Behind that
gloss of soft light and of social sparkle was the live, fearful thing
that had shaped that mouth into the gash it was. What I sensed behind in
those eyes chilled me with its repulsiveness and strangeness.

As I faced Mr. Mellaire, and talked with him, and smiled, and exchanged
amenities, I was aware of the feeling that comes to one in the forest or
jungle when he knows unseen wild eyes of hunting animals are spying upon
him. Frankly I was afraid of the thing ambushed behind there in the
skull of Mr. Mellaire. One so as a matter of course identifies form and
feature with the spirit within. But I could not do this with the second
mate. His face and form and manner and suave ease were one thing, inside
which he, an entirely different thing, lay hid.

I noticed Wada standing in the cabin door, evidently waiting to ask for
instructions. I nodded, and prepared to follow him inside. Mr. Pike
looked at me quickly and said:

"Just a moment, Mr. Pathurst."

He gave some orders to the second mate, who turned on his heel and
started for'ard. I stood and waited for Mr. Pike's communication, which
he did not ch