They halted near the rail for a further inspection of him. Bridge, swabbing industriously, pretended not to hear. He had not attracted so much attention for years. "See the slumbering fire in those dark eyes," went on the innocent old lady--"the reserve power, the strength to do, and dare, and die--the tremendous will of a strong man, who lets nothing baffle him when aroused. That man has not been aroused. See his hair--" "Nonsense! A stiff drink'll arouse him." "There you are again, skeptic," laughed the old lady. "But, I tell you, eyes and hair indicate character! His hair is the very opposite of Zaza's, but equally rare and matchless in hue. Each indicates temperament." They went on, and Bridge dropped his swab and watched them till they were out of sight. He had never seen them, to his knowledge, and their comment on himself and his work had not greatly disturbed him. But the name Zaza, the name of someone they knew, had seemed familiar. It had brought the same thrill of recognition that he had experienced years before at school, when the little girl was called up to sing--the little girl that died, and whom he had almost forgotten. "Zaza, Zaza," he repeated to himself. It was a strange name. Where had he heard it? It was his lookout at the bow that night from eight to ten, and he took his place clad in sou'wester and oilskins; for a fog thick as darkness had settled down on the ship. He could see the stem in front of him, but little farther in the smudge. Aft was the dim outline of the windlass, and beyond the dimmer outline of the V-shaped breakwater. To starboard and port were the two mighty anchors, magnified by the fog. Eyes were of little use on such a night; but he dutifully kept his ears open for sound of foghorn or steam whistle, and paced up and down, thinking of matters unthought of for years--his old home and school days, his mother and sister, and little golden-haired Zenie who had died. Step by step he reviewed his life of failure and incompetence. Voyage after voyage, event after event, men and influences--all came under the criticism of his aroused faculties, until they ended with the comment of the old lady on the after deck. "That man has not been aroused," she had said. Where was the reserve power, the strength, the will to do, that she had seen in him?