of those shy smiles which, as they reveal his childish, simple heart,
compel you to love the man. "It struck me after a bit that a
hemn-tune mightn't come amiss to a man in that distress of mind.
So I pitched to sing that grand old tune, 'Partners of a glorious
hope,' a bit low at first, but louder as I picked up confidence.
Soon as he heard it he stopped short, and called out to me to shut my
head. So, findin' that hemns only excited him, I sat quiet, while he
picked up his tramp again.

"I had allowed to myself that 'twould be all right soon after eleven,
when the publics closed, and his mates would be turnin' up, to take
care of him. But eleven o'clock struck, back in the town; and the
quarters, and then twelve; and still no boat came off from shore.
Then, soon after twelve, he grew quiet of a sudden. The trampin'
stopped. I reckoned he'd gone below, though I couldn't be certain.
But bein' by this time pretty cold with watchin', and dog-tired, I
tumbled below and into my bunk. I must have been uneasy though, for
I didn't take off more'n my boots.

"What's more I couldn't have slept more than a dog's sleep. For I
woke up sudden to the noise of a splash--it seemed I'd been waitin'
for it--and was up on deck in two shakes.

"Yes, the chap was overboard, fast enough--I heard a sort of gurgle
as he came to the surface, and some sort of attempt at a cry.
Before he went under again, the tide drifted his head like a little
black buoy across the ray of our ridin' light. So overboard I
jumped, and struck out for him."

At this point--the exciting point--Pilot Matthey's narrative halted,