The man blundered up with a confused apology, and Saltash laughed at him
derisively.

"Wasting the magic hours in sleep, Parker? Well, I suppose dreams are
better than nothing. Were they--good dreams?"

"I don't know, my lord," said Parker, grinning foolishly.

Saltash clapped him on the shoulder and turned away. "Well, I'm ready for
the open sea now," he said. "We'll leave our dreams behind."

He was always on easy terms with his sailors who worshipped him to a man.

He whistled a careless air as he went below. The magic of Valrosa had
loosed its hold, and he was thinking of the wide ocean and buffeting
waves that awaited him. He turned on the lights of the saloon and stopped
there for another cigarette and a drink, first walking to and fro,
finally flinging himself on a crimson velvet settee and surrendering
himself luxuriously to a repose for which he had not felt the need until
that moment.

So lying, he heard the stir and tramp of feet above him, the voices of
men, the lifting of the gangway; and presently the yacht began to throb
as though suddenly endowed with life. He felt the heave of the sea as she
left her moorings, and the rush of water pouring past her keel as she
drew away from the quay.

He stretched himself with lazy enjoyment. It was good to come and go as
he listed, good to have no ties to bind him. He supposed he would always
be a wanderer on the face of the earth, and after all wandering suited