’"Come back to what?” he asked absently, with his eyes fixed upon the face of a clock on the wall.

’I was silent for a while.  “Is it to be never, then?” I said.  “Never,” he repeated dreamily without looking at me, and then flew into sudden activity.  “Jove!  Two o’clock, and I sail at four!”

’It was true.  A brigantine of Stein’s was leaving for the westward that afternoon, and he had been instructed to take his passage in her, only no orders to delay the sailing had been given.  I suppose Stein forgot.  He made a rush to get his things while I went aboard my ship, where he promised to call on his way to the outer roadstead.  He turned up accordingly in a great hurry and with a small leather valise in his hand.  This wouldn’t do, and I offered him an old tin trunk of mine supposed to be water-tight, or at least damp-tight.  He effected the transfer by the simple process of shooting out the contents of his valise as you would empty a sack of wheat.  I saw three books in the tumble; two small, in dark covers, and a thick green-and-gold volume—­a half-crown complete Shakespeare.  “You read this?” I asked.  “Yes.  Best thing to cheer up a fellow,” he said hastily.  I was struck by this appreciation, but there was no time for Shakespearian talk.  A heavy revolver and two small boxes of cartridges were lying on the cuddy-table.  “Pray take this,” I said.  “It may help you to remain.”  No sooner were these words out of my mouth than I perceived what grim meaning they could bear.  “May help you to get in,” I corrected myself remorsefully.  He however was not troubled by obscure meanings; he thanked me effusively and bolted out, calling Good-bye over his shoulder.  I heard his voice through the ship’s side urging his boatmen to give way, and looking out of the stern-port I saw the boat rounding under the counter.  He sat in her leaning forward, exciting his men with voice and gestures; and as he had kept the revolver in his hand and seemed to be presenting it at their heads, I shall never forget the scared faces of the four Javanese, and the frantic swing of their stroke which snatched that vision from under my eyes.  Then turning away, the first thing I saw were the two boxes of cartridges on the cuddy-table.  He had forgotten to take them.

’I ordered my gig manned at once; but Jim’s rowers, under the impression that their lives hung on a thread while they had that madman in the boat, made such excellent time that before I had traversed half the distance between the two vessels I caught sight of him clambering over the rail, and of his box being passed up.  All the brigantine’s canvas was loose, her mainsail was set, and the windlass was just beginning to clink as I stepped upon her deck:  her master, a dapper little half-caste of forty or so, in a blue flannel suit, with lively eyes, his round face the colour of lemon-peel, and with a thin little black moustache drooping on each side of his thick, dark lips, came forward smirking.