“Same here.  I’ve seen it as bad as this a couple of times before.”  He picked up Jan’s bill.  “But this old shoe box ain’t getting any younger.  Here’s your brandy.  It’s good stuff—­don’t be afraid of it.  Seventy-five and fifteen—­ninety.”

“Have a cigar,” said Jan, “and finish the dollar.”

“Thanks.  I will.  But I’ll smoke it later, when it’s quieter, if it’s all the same to you.”  He rang up a dollar on the cash register and turned to a new-comer who had ranged up beside Jan.

“Brandy,” said the new-comer.

As Jan thrust his flask in his inside coat-pocket he flashed a sidewise glance at the man drinking.  The man was buttoned up to his eyes, but Jan thought he knew the voice.  Jan buttoned up his own coat, said “Good-night” to the bartender and went out on deck, from where, through the window, he could view the customer at the bar.

Jan saw him empty his glass and motion for another drink.  He drank that, paid, and turned to go.  Jan caught a front glimpse of his face.  It was Goles.  Jan also saw that the bartender was looking curiously after him.

Jan waited for him outside.  As he came almost abreast, the ship heaved and the two men fell against each other, while a great splash of sea-water drenched them.  Again a roll and jump, and Goles would have fallen had not Jan held him upright.  Goles gave him no thanks, but he said huskily:  “I heard one of the sailors say she’s a goner.”  With Jan holding on to Goles, the two men were swaying and stumbling to the boat’s heavy rolling and heaving.

“I don’t know about that,” said Jan; “but she’s in a bad way.  And it’s going to be worse, I think.”

“That’s what the sailor said,” muttered Goles.

“So if you want to shoot anybody you better wait till we’re safe—­to-morrow maybe.  And your wife—­But watch out!”

The sea washed fairly over them both.  With the wave went a broken rail and part of the splintered house.  Following the crashing of the wood and glass came the frightened questions and the patter of excited people running out of their rooms.  The story-telling group from the barroom came as one man.  The glass of the window over their heads had been showered on to their table.  The bartender stopped only to empty his cash register, stuff the money in his pocket, and get into a great coat; then he came running out too.  Bottles and glasses were breaking behind him as he ran.

“Come,” said Jan.  Goles followed.  Jan went up and looked into the saloon.  There she was, still waiting.  “You stay here and I will bring her out,” said Jan to Goles—­“and don’t you open your mouth when you see her.”

Goles made no sign.  He was gripping the house railing and his face was to the sea.

“Thank God for the sight of you!” she said to Jan as he came in.  “Is the ship going down?”

“Not yet.  But your husband is outside.  He won’t say anything.  Don’t you either.  And when—­Hold hard!”