“Because you had something more to tell us,” Mrs. Travers suggested, gently.

“Yes,” he said in a low tone and without moving in the least.

“Will you come on board and wait?” she asked.

“Who?  I!” He lifted his head so quickly as to startle her.  “I have nothing to say to him; and I’ll never put my foot on board this craft.  I’ve been told to go.  That’s enough.”

“He is accustomed to be addressed deferentially,” she said after a pause, “and you—­”

“Who is he?” asked Lingard, simply.

These three words seemed to her to scatter her past in the air—­like smoke.  They robbed all the multitude of mankind of every vestige of importance.  She was amazed to find that on this night, in this place, there could be no adequate answer to the searching naiveness of that question.

“I didn’t ask for much,” Lingard began again.  “Did I?  Only that you all should come on board my brig for five days.  That’s all. . . .  Do I look like a liar?  There are things I could not tell him.  I couldn’t explain—­I couldn’t—­not to him—­to no man—­to no man in the world—­”

His voice dropped.

“Not to myself,” he ended as if in a dream.

“We have remained unmolested so long here,” began Mrs. Travers a little unsteadily, “that it makes it very difficult to believe in danger, now.  We saw no one all these days except those two people who came for you.  If you may not explain—­”

“Of course, you can’t be expected to see through a wall,” broke in Lingard.  “This coast’s like a wall, but I know what’s on the other side. . . .  A yacht here, of all things that float!  When I set eyes on her I could fancy she hadn’t been more than an hour from home.  Nothing but the look of her spars made me think of old times.  And then the faces of the chaps on board.  I seemed to know them all.  It was like home coming to me when I wasn’t thinking of it.  And I hated the sight of you all.”

“If we are exposed to any peril,” she said after a pause during which she tried to penetrate the secret of passion hidden behind that man’s words, “it need not affect you.  Our other boat is gone to the Straits and effective help is sure to come very soon.”

“Affect me!  Is that precious watchman of yours coming aft?  I don’t want anybody to know I came here again begging, even of you.  Is he coming aft? . . .  Listen!  I’ve stopped your other boat.”

His head and shoulders disappeared as though he had dived into a denser layer of obscurity floating on the water.  The watchman, who had the intention to stretch himself in one of the deck chairs, catching sight of the owner’s wife, walked straight to the lamp that hung under the ridge pole of the awning, and after fumbling with it for a time went away forward with an indolent gait.

“You dared!” Mrs. Travers whispered down in an intense tone; and directly, Lingard’s head emerged again below her with an upturned face.