"And then," says Corkey, "he whisper his good-bye to you. 'Tell her
good-bye for me.' _That's_ what he said, you moke!"

"Yessah."

Esther Lockwin grasps those short hands. She thanks the commodore for
saving her husband, for living to tell her his last words. She can
herself live to find her husband's body.

But it is far too much for the navigator.

His sobs resound through the room. The woman cannot weep. Her eyes
are dry,

"I had such feelings as no decent man ever gits," he explains, "but
I'll never forgive myself that it was me who steered him agin it."

"You have a better heart than most men, Mr. Corkey."

"I'd give seven hundred cases in bar gelt if he was in Congress to-day,
Mrs. Lockwin."

"I know you would, you poor man. God bless you for it!"

Corkey is feeling in all his pockets.

"Take this handkerchief, Mr. Corkey, if it will help you. God bless
you always! God bless you always! Come and see me often. I shall
never get tired of hearing how my husband died. He must have been