Often, when I was stoking, during an hour or so of relief, I used to
steal up here and look down at the mystery, for it will ever be a
mystery to me. And I found comfort."

"Are you religious, too?"

"In one thing, that God demands that every man shall have faith in
himself."

How deep his voice was as compared to Arthur's! Arthur. Elsa frowned
at the rippling magic. Why was she invariably comparing the two men?
What significance did it have upon the future, since, at the present
moment, it was not understandable?

"There is a man on board by the name of Craig," she said. "I advise
you to beware of him."

"Who introduced him to you?" The anger in his voice was very agreeable
to her ears. "Who dared to?"

"No one. He introduced himself on the way up to Mandalay. In Rangoon
I closed the acquaintance, such as it was, with the aid of a hat-pin."

"A hat-pin! What did he say to you?" roughly.

"Nothing that I care to repeat. . . . Stop! I am perfectly able to
take care of myself. I do not need any valiant champion."

"He has spoken to you about me?"

"A letter. I saw only his name and yours. I tore it up and threw it
overboard. Let us go back. Somehow, everything seems spoiled. I am
sorry I spoke."

"I shall see that he does not bother you again," ominously.

They returned to the promenade deck in silence. When Warrington found
Craig the man was helplessly intoxicated. He lay sprawled upon his
mattress, and the kick administered did not stir him. Warrington
looked down at the sodden wretch moodily.

Craig's intoxication was fortunate for him, otherwise he would have
been roughly handled; for there was black murder in the heart of the
broken man standing above him. Warrington relaxed his clenched hands.
This evil-breathing thing at his feet was the primal cause of it all,
he and a man's damnable weakness. Of what use his new-found fortune?
Better for him had he stayed in the jungle, better have died there,
hugging his poor delusion. Oh, abysmal fool that he had been!

X

THE CUT DIRECT

It was after five in the morning when the deckhands tried to get Craig
to go down to his room. With the dull obstinacy of a drunken man, he
refused to stir; he was perfectly satisfied to stay where he was. The
three brown men stood irresolutely and helplessly around the man.
Every one had gone below. The hose was ready to flush the deck. It
did not matter; he, Craig, would not budge.

"L