one of the crew being carried below by four of his fellows
while the first mate, a heavy belaying pin in his hand, stood
glowering at the little party of sullen sailors.

Clayton asked no questions--he did not need to--and the
following day, as the great lines of a British battleship grew
out of the distant horizon, he half determined to demand that
he and Lady Alice be put aboard her, for his fears were
steadily increasing that nothing but harm could result from
remaining on the lowering, sullen Fuwalda.

Toward noon they were within speaking distance of the
British vessel, but when Clayton had nearly decided to ask
the captain to put them aboard her, the obvious ridiculousness
of such a request became suddenly apparent. What reason
could he give the officer commanding her majesty's ship
for desiring to go back in the direction from which he had
just come!

What if he told them that two insubordinate seamen had
been roughly handled by their officers? They would but laugh
in their sleeves and attribute his reason for wishing to leave
the ship to but one thing--cowardice.

John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, did not ask to be transferred
to the British man-of-war. Late in the afternoon he saw
her upper works fade below the far horizon, but not before
he learned that which confirmed his greatest fears, and
caused him to curse the false pride which had restrained him
from seeking safety for his young wife a few short hours