her so, and might die without ever telling her my love! Harris,
however, stood firm.

"There's that quartermaster and my steward, and Jose the nigger,"
said he. "That's quite enough, Mr. Cole, for I ain't above an oar
myself; but, by God, I'm skipper o' this here ship, and I'll skip
her as long as I remain aboard!"

I saw his hand go to his belt; I saw the pistols stuck there for
mutineers. I looked at Santos. He answered me with his neutral
shrug, and, by my soul, he struck a match and lit a cigarette in
that hour of life and death! Then last I looked at Ready; and he
leant invertebrate over the rail, gasping pitiably from his
exertions in regaining the poop, a dying man once more. I pointed
out his piteous state.

"At least," I whispered, "you won't refuse to take him?"

"Will there be anything to take?" said the captain brutally.

Santos advanced leisurely, and puffed his cigarette over the poor
wasted and exhausted frame.

"It is for you to decide, captain," said he cynically; "but this
one will make no deeference. Yes, I would take him. It will not
be far," he added, in a tone that was not the less detestable for
being lowered.

"Take them both!" moaned little Eva, putting in her first and last
sweet word.