“We aren’t indeed!  There’s nothing of a boy’s tale in this.  But there’s nothing else for it.  I want no more.  You don’t suppose I am afraid of what can be done to me?  Prison or gallows or whatever they may please.  But you don’t see me coming back to explain such things to an old fellow in a wig and twelve respectable tradesmen, do you?  What can they know whether I am guilty or not—­or of what I am guilty, either?  That’s my affair.  What does the Bible say?  ‘Driven off the face of the earth.’  Very well.  I am off the face of the earth now.  As I came at night so I shall go.”

“Impossible!” I murmured.  “You can’t.”

“Can’t? . . .  Not naked like a soul on the Day of Judgment.  I shall freeze on to this sleeping-suit.  The Last Day is not yet—­ and you have understood thoroughly.  Didn’t you?”

I felt suddenly ashamed of myself.  I may say truly that I understood—­and my hesitation in letting that man swim away from my ship’s side had been a mere sham sentiment, a sort of cowardice.

“It can’t be done now till next night,” I breathed out.  “The ship is on the off-shore tack and the wind may fail us.”

“As long as I know that you understand,” he whispered.  “But of course you do.  It’s a great satisfaction to have got somebody to understand.  You seem to have been there on purpose.”  And in the same whisper, as if we two whenever we talked had to say things to each other which were not fit for the world to hear, he added, “It’s very wonderful.”  We remained side by side talking in our secret way—­but sometimes silent or just exchanging a whispered word or two at long intervals.  And as usual he stared through the port.  A breath of wind came now and again into our faces.  The ship might have been moored in dock, so gently and on an even keel she slipped through the water, that did not murmur even at our passage, shadowy and silent like a phantom sea.

At midnight I went on deck, and to my mate’s great surprise put the ship round on the other tack.  His terrible whiskers flitted round me in silent criticism.  I certainly should not have done it if it had been only a question of getting out of that sleepy gulf as quickly as possible.  I believe he told the second mate, who relieved him, that it was a great want of judgment.  The other only yawned.  That intolerable cub shuffled about so sleepily and lolled against the rails in such a slack, improper fashion that I came down on him sharply.

“Aren’t you properly awake yet?”

“Yes, sir!  I am awake.”

“Well, then, be good enough to hold yourself as if you were.  And keep a look-out.  If there’s any current we’ll be closing with some islands before daylight.”