he major, "we don't care to."

"Perhaps Haltren will stay aboard the wreck with us until the _Dione_
comes in," suggested Darrow.

"I dare say you have a camp hereabouts," said the major, staring at
Haltren; "no doubt you'd be more comfortable there."

"Thanks," said Haltren, pleasantly; "I have my camp a mile below." He
offered his hand to Darrow, who, too angry to speak, nodded violently
towards the cabin.

"How can I?" asked Haltren. "Good-bye. And I'll say good-bye to you,
major--"

"Good-bye," muttered the major, attempting to clasp his fat little hands
behind his back.

Haltren, who had no idea of offering his hand, stood still a moment,
glancing at the cabin skylights; then, with a final nod to Darrow, he
deliberately slid over-board and waded away, knee-deep, towards the
palm-fringed shore.

Darrow could not contain himself. "Major Brent," he said, "I suppose you
don't realize that Haltren saved the lives of every soul aboard this
launch."

The major's inflamed eyes popped out.

"Eh? What's that?"

"More than that," said Darrow, "he came back from safety to risk his
life. As it was he lost his boat and his gun--"

"Damnation!" broke out the major; "you don't expect me to ask him to
stay and meet the wife he deserted four years ago!"

And he waddled off to the engine-room, where the engineer and his
assistant were tinkering at the wrecked engine.

Darrow went down into the sloppy cabin, where, on a couch, Mrs. Castle
lay, ill from the shock of the recent catastrophe; and beside her stood
an attractive girl stirring sweet spirits of ammonia in a tumbler.

Her eyes were fixed on the open port-hole. Through that port-hole the
lagoon was visible; so was Haltren, wading shoreward, a solitary figure
against the fringed rampart of the wilderness.

"Is Mrs. Castle better?" asked Darrow.

"I think so; I think she is asleep," said the girl, calmly.

There was a pause; then Darrow took the tumbler and stirred the
contents.

"Do you know who it was that got us out of that pickle?"

"Yes," she said; "my husband."

"I suppose you could hear what we said on deck."

There was no answer.

"Could you, Kathleen?"

"Yes."

Darrow stared into the tumbler, tasted the medicine, and frowned.

"Isn't there--isn't there a chance--a ghost of a chance?" he asked.

"I think not," she answered--"I am sure not. I shall never see him
again."

"I meant for myself," said Darrow, deliberately, looking her full