And protection to the utmost of his powers she should have.... Was he justified in slaying the man? ... In view of the deadly intent of this latest attack he thought he was. But whether he could bring himself to it, if the chance offered, he was not by any means sure.... The deliberate killing of one's fellow was a serious matter.... In self-defence of course one was justified.... As to the law--it seemed as though the mate was right in his belief that they were destined to spend the rest of their lives--some of them at all events--on this bare bank of sand, where none ever came who could help it, and where no law but that of Nature obtained.... But there was a higher law. "Thou shalt not kill." ... Yes, it would be very much against the grain of his life and conscience, but it might have to be.... He sat up suddenly, listening intently. "What is it?" asked The Girl, startled out of her own reverie. He raised his hand for silence. "I thought I heard a cry," and he got up, and went up the steps, and opened the door and stood there straining his ears into the clammy darkness. The fog lay thicker than ever. It was like listening into the side of a bale of raw cotton. The faint glow of the fire below died against the opaque wall in front. It could not have been seen a yard away. The Girl stood on the stairs close behind him. "I must have been mistaken," he murmured, "or perhaps it was a seagull,"--when, just below and almost alongside them, there came the violent sweep of an oar used as a paddle, and a wild spate of curses like the furious outburst of a panic-stricken brain. Wulf slipped noiselessly down for his axe and stepped up on deck. If he went past, well and good. If he ran into them---- There came a sudden bump against the side of their ship and the sound of a fall on the raft. "---- ---- ---- ---- ye, ye ---- ---- rotten old coffin! I've got ye at last, ---- ---- ----!" and right up out of the fog under Wulfrey's nose came two clammy black hands clawing nervously at the bulwark. "You can't come aboard here, Macro," he said quietly. The grimy hands loosed with a startled oath and the mate dropped back on to his raft. "----! That you again? ---- ---- ---- ---- you! I thought.... Then my ---- craft must be over there. ---- ---- ----! I'll do for you yet, my cully!" and the oar dashed into the water again and he cursed himself off into the darkness. "You could have killed him," gasped The Girl at his side, through her chattering teeth. "I could--but I couldn't." "We shall have no peace while he lives." "I fear not. Still--I couldn't cut him down in cold blood like that. What would you have thought of me if I had done so?" "I should have said you had done well." "I know you better." At which she shook her head. "You don't know what horrid thoughts whirl about in my mind. No man really knows what a woman thinks," and the frank dark eyes regarded him solemnly. "I know you better than you do yourself."