e Pole
paused on the threshold and looked back. Then he came into the cabin
again with his hand in the pocket of his threadbare workman's jacket.

"Look here," he said, bringing out a folded envelope and laying it
on the cabin-table between them. "A dead man's wish. Get that to Miss
Cahere. There is no message."

Cartoner took up the envelope and put it in his pocket.

"I shall not see her, but I will see that she gets it," he said.

The dawn was in the sky before the _Minnie_ swept out past the pier-head
light of Neufahrwasser. It was almost daylight when she slowed down in
the bay to drop her pilot. Kosmaroff's boat was towing astern, jumping
and straining in the wash of the screw. They hauled it up under the
quarter, and in the dim light of coming day Cable and Cartoner drew near
to the Pole, who had just quitted the wheel.

The three men stood together for a moment in silence. There was much to
be said. There was a multitude of questions to be asked and answered.
But none of the three had the intention of doing either one or the
other.

"If you want a passage home," said Cable, gruffly, "cut your boat
adrift. You're welcome."

"Thank you," was the answer. "I am going back to Poland to try again."

He turned to Cartoner, and peered in the half-light into the face of
the only man he had had dealings with who had not been afraid of him.
"Perhaps we shall meet again soon," he said, "in Poland."

"Not yet," replied Cartoner. "I am under orders for Madrid."

Kosmaroff stood by the rail for a moment, looking down into his boat.
Then he turned suddenly to Cartoner, and made him a short, formal bow.

"Good-bye," he said.

Cartoner nodded, and said nothing.

Kosmaroff then turned towards Cable, who was standing with his hands
thrust into his jacket-pockets, looking ahead towards the open sea.

"Captain," he said, and held out his hand so that Cable could not help
seeing it. The captain hesitated, and at length withdrew his hand from
the shelter of his pocket.

"Good-bye, mister," he said.

Then Kosmaroff climbed down into his boat. They cut the rope adrift, and
he sat down to the oars.

There was a lurid streak of dawn low down in the sky, and Kosmaroff
headed his boat towards it across the chill, green waters. Above the
promise of a stormy day towered a great bank of torn clouds hanging over
Poland.

XXXVII

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS

Paul Deulin happened to be in Lady Orlay's drawing-room, near