tiller; and a man, all in a heap in the bows of the boat, slept with
both arms embracing the stem-head and with his cheek laid on the
gunwale. The East looked at them without a sound.

"I have known its fascination since: I have seen the mysterious shores,
the still water, the lands of brown nations, where a stealthy Nemesis
lies in wait, pursues, overtakes so many of the conquering race, who are
proud of their wisdom, of their knowledge, of their strength. But for me
all the East is contained in that vision of my youth. It is all in that
moment when I opened my young eyes on it. I came upon it from a tussle
with the sea--and I was young--and I saw it looking at me. And this is
all that is left of it! Only a moment; a moment of strength, of romance,
of glamour--of youth! . . . A flick of sunshine upon a strange
shore, the time to remember, the time for a sigh,
and--good-bye!--Night--Good-bye . . .!"

He drank.

"Ah! The good old time--the good old time. Youth and the sea. Glamour
and the sea! The good, strong sea, the salt, bitter sea, that could
whisper to you and roar at you and knock your breath out of you."

He drank again.

"By all that's wonderful, it is the sea, I believe, the sea itself--or
is it youth alone? Who can tell? But you here--you all had something out
of life: money, love--whatever one gets on shore--and, tell me, wasn't
that the best time, that time when we were young at sea; young and
had nothing, on the sea that gives nothing, except hard knocks--and
sometimes a chance to feel your strength--that only--what you all