"There is one at least whom you can keep if you so please," Granger said; "one who will work like, live with, those men there," and he pointed to where half a dozen sailors were swabbing the deck. "Yourself!" exclaimed Geoffrey, his face lighting. "Yourself! She has spoken to you of a different life?" "She has spoken to me. In her mercy and goodness! And I have promised." "Thank God! The trade I found you at a few days ago might well become the man you were supposed to be, not the man you are." "That trade ends to-day. To-night, I tell the man who employs me that he must seek another tool. Almost directly, if you will have me; I can join your ship." "We can perhaps do better than you say. Yet, to-morrow, I must speak to their Lordships. As an officer you cannot of course go----" "I--an officer! I do not dream of that." "But," Geoffrey continued, "the _Resolution_ wants a gunner's mate. If I can transfer mine to her, you could come in this ship. If I cannot, then the _Resolution_ must have you." "What can I say? How utter----" "Say nothing. Granger," he continued, "you have suffered deeply, and--and--we have been brother sailors. If I who sat in judgment on you once and wronged you unwittingly can now help to right you, I will do it." And he laid his hand upon the other's arm as a firm friend might do. "I want to see you once more the Lewis Granger who was known and spoken enviously of when he was in the _Revenge_," he continued. "I want to see my gunner's mate--if I can have him--back again in his old place amongst us when this coming war is over." For a moment Lewis Granger stood there looking at the man before him--the man whose life was so bright and prosperous, yet, who, nevertheless, could feel such pity for one whose existence had been so broken. "You forget," he whispered; "you forget. My disgrace, my ruin was not all. That, it seems, may be wiped out for ever. But what of the rest of my life? What have I been? Even during the past months. And--and--I have sent that man to death, a death in life, if nothing else." "That counts not. What would he have done? To you--to Anne--to Ariadne! My God! Granger, you have instead saved him--from me. Had he been here now, were he within my reach, I would slay him myself as I would slay a snake." "Yet I suggested the scheme to him, meaning thereby that he should fall into the trap." "But not meaning that it should be carried out. He was the villain, and his villainy has recoiled on his own head. Dismiss all recollection of that. Live now to be prosperous and happy." "Happy--never! Happiness and I are parted; henceforth our ways are far asunder. Let me go," he said, turning towards the side where the boat he had come in was waiting for him, "and if you can do what you say, if you can take me with you, let me know to-morrow after you have seen their Lordships. I shall be ready ere long."