--how joyously the
voices trilled in his ears! "France, and life to begin anew!
France--and Marie-Louise! France, and--"

"You damned loafer!" snarled a voice beside him--and quick, with the
words, a stinging blow fell upon Jean's face.

It was the raw-boned, wizened engineer--the man above all others who
was responsible for his, Jean's, presence there in the bunker again on
this return voyage to France--the man who had made of the voyage a
living hell. Marie-Louise's money, her attempt to pay his passage back
and save him from this had counted for nothing--against this man. Two
trimmers had deserted almost on the hour of sailing--he, Jean, was
lawful prey--a stowaway being deported--and there had been a vicious
smirk of satisfaction on the man's face, reminiscent of Jean's
unruliness that night on the outward voyage when he had been
discovered, as the engineer had claimed him for one of the vacancies.

The shovel clanged on the steel plates of the deck as it dropped from
Jean's hands. He whirled like a flash, and, grasping the engineer by
the shoulders, lifted the other off his feet, and held him as powerless
as in the clutch of an iron vise; held the other off at arms' length in
his mighty strength to wriggle impotently; held the other there--and
laughed out with that wondrous surge of joy that was upon him.

"I will not hurt you!" cried Jean--and laughed in a big, glad way. "I
am too happy! See, I will not hurt you! I am too happy! Do you know
what it is to be happy? To love everything--to have your heart
singing, singing all the time! Ah, if you could but know! But, go
now--for see, I will not hurt you! I am too happy!"--and laughing
again, he released the man.

The engineer stood for an instant gazing at Jean. Happy! This great
giant of a man, in torn clothes, the sweat rolling furrows down the
grime-smeared face--this man, a stowaway on the voyage out--this man,
deported from America--this man, forced to work here on the voyage
back, who was to be treated, and had been treated like a dog--this
man--_happy_! Happy! Was the man mad? The engineer, muttering in his
amazement, wondering and dazed and awed at the strength that had made
of him a puny thing, edged away, and disappeared in the gloom.

Two little incandescents burned yellow from the stanchions
overhead--there was no other light. There was nothing but the choking
swirl of the coal dust, the rasp of the shovels, the clack of the
barr