phosphorescence flashed in the swirl of the water all about his
limbs, his other hand seized the ladder.

"My name's Leggatt."

The voice was calm and resolute. A good voice. The self-
possession of that man had somehow induced a corresponding state in
myself. It was very quietly that I remarked:

"You must be a good swimmer."

"Yes. I've been in the water practically since nine o'clock. The
question for me now is whether I am to let go this ladder and go on
swimming till I sink from exhaustion, or--to come on board here."

I felt this was no mere formula of desperate speech, but a real
alternative in the view of a strong soul. I should have gathered
from this that he was young; indeed, it is only the young who are
ever confronted by such clear issues. But at the time it was pure
intuition on my part. A mysterious communication was established
already between us two--in the face of that silent, darkened
tropical sea. I was young, too; young enough to make no comment.
The man in the water began suddenly to climb up the ladder, and I
hastened away from the rail to fetch some clothes.

Before entering the cabin I stood still, listening in the lobby at
the foot of the stairs. A faint snore came through the closed door
of the chief mate's room. The second mate's door was on the hook,
but the darkness in there was absolutely soundless. He, too, was
young and could sleep like a stone. Remained the steward, but he