“No, no. I knew, dead or alive, he was on the other side of the world. Or, at nearest, in California.” “I don’t tempt him by being sure.” The rigid line of his lips looked less like firmness than an effort at control. “If I were to be sure again, especially here, the fog there would open and a ship come sailing through. And it would be his ship. And in a moment your ship, too.” “Don’t you know for him to be up here is physically impossible, even if he’s alive?” Cheviot shook his head. “There are some men—even their ghosts can fight their battles. _His_ did, once before.” “I could never have believed you were superstitious.” “Mayn’t I have even that much imagination?” “You’ve forgotten it was all just a dream of mine. Why”—she couldn’t help giving out a little miserable laugh—“you’ve forgotten, just as I used to, that I’ve never seen him?” “I remember I used to wish you had.” “Well, there’s one thing you can’t remember, because you never knew it. And that is that I had never seen _you_ in the Valdivia days. It was partly my fault, but not altogether. Men’s lives are so hidden from girls. How is it possible for us to know them? We never see them doing things that are worth while. We haven’t a notion what they’re like when they’re at work. Only, about _one_ man’s work I used to think I knew. Of course I didn’t, but just to imagine it was something. I was the kind of girl who isn’t ambitious for herself. But for the man she—The reason that old ‘obsession,’ as you called it, took such hold of me, was that _there_ was a man who was ‘doing things’! I’d heard all my life about the things he’d done and the things he meant to do. They seemed already made immortal in a book. But now I’ve seen it isn’t only he—” The contrast in achievement cut too cruelly. Cheviot struck the damp railing with his open palm, and laughed out loud. Though his action dashed her into trembling she drew closer, she pressed against his arm. “Besides, I’ve come at last to care for some one in the only true way—quite apart from anything he may do. I—I love you, Louis.” The look he turned upon her was very beautiful to the girl. As his hand moved toward her along the railing, under cover of the cape, her own slipped into it. The wild chant of the Chinamen abruptly ended, and now that nearer, more intelligible sound, the creaking of the falls as the long boat sank from the davits to the sea. Cheviot, with an effort, turned his eyes away from the girl’s face. Together they watched the boat floated over the great anchor that was suspended lengthwise a little under the surface of the water; together saw the binding fast of the anchor to the boat. And now the two made one were ready. Cheviot took off his overcoat and flung it over the railing. “Will you have an eye to that?” Her heart was beating painfully. “Do you think I’ll have an eye to spare?”