'How is it, bo's'n?' called the same voice a moment later.

'Got 'em both, sir,' answered Coleman.

'Both!'

'Ay, ay, sir!'

A tumult of voices surged over the ship again; the heads piled themselves
afresh, craning one above the other. Two had gone overboard! Only one had
been reported, and one only was missed. Interest was doubled. For four
weeks the Francis Cadman had been pottering about the Indian Ocean
without discovering a single adventure to break the stupid monotony of
sky and sea, and restore the faith of the passengers in their favourite
maritime authors; but here, at last, was a sensation and a mystery.

Perhaps, after all, it was no mere accident, but a tragedy. Men and women
thronged the deck, thrilling with sympathy, and yet secretly hoping for a
complete drama, even though someone must suffer.

The girl was first passed up. When the young man followed she had been
carried below. He was barefooted, and clad only in singlet and trousers;
his coat and shirt had been discarded in the sea.

Ryan's expression sprang from every tongue.

'The Hermit!'

The young man stood with his shoulders to the gunwale, facing the crowd.
There was something resentful in his attitude. His face was that of a man