I know my thoughts were confused, and unreasonable, but I think I was mad, for I stamped my foot in my rage. I heard a noise behind me and turned round. The captain stood coolly watching me. Instantly, my position burst upon me, and I was confused. "Well, Richard Tretheway," he said, "and what have you been using my glass for?" "It is a fine old headland, sir, and I wanted to see it." "Ay, and it's a fine old house on the cliff, eh. Whom does it belong to?" I was silent. "Ah, well, lad, I will not pry into your secrets; sometime, perhaps, you may want to tell me," and he walked away. Still I watched, while the couple on the cliff became more and more indistinct, and the old grey tower seemed to melt away in the steely sky, and as it did so my feelings softened, for I felt I was bidding good-bye to it for ever. My love for Ruth began to exert its power, and although I felt bitter, the thought of going back to wreck her happiness was repugnant. On, on we swept, until Ruth and Wilfred could no longer be seen, and the old house was hidden by the prongs of the "Devil's Tooth." Then I broke down and sobbed like a child. Now, indeed, I was alone and without a friend. There was no brightness in my sky, no hope for the future. Truly I was sad at heart. With that the words of old Deborah Teague came back to me. "Mind, mind Trewinion's curse, tes comin', tes comin'. I see Maaster Roger homeless, friendless, despised, disgraced. Mind, Maaster Roger, mind." CHAPTER XIV "A HOME ON THE ROLLING DEEP" I found Luke Miller, the captain of the boat, to be kind and friendly. Not that he took any notice of me for several days. He did not. But when we arrived at Plymouth, and were away from the crew, he began to talk kindly to me. "Tretheway," he said, "I don't know anything about you, and it may be that in talking freely to you I am in one sense taking a liberty. May be you have been brought up well; fact, I'm sure you have. But all that's no business of mine. What I want to say is this, I like you. I daren't show it at sea, as there'd be jealousy. At the same time, if ever I can show my real friendship to you, or if ever you want a friend, you know where to come." I thanked him warmly. "There's just another thing to say, lad. You've had a quiet time on board yet, for the men ain't known what to make of you, but they begin to feel their way. They fancies you are a swell and a sneak, so keep your weather eye open. The best men of the crew are leaving here, too, and I am afraid I shall have to pick up a rough lot, so, as I say, keep a sharp look out." I found this advice very much to the point a day or two after. Not that I minded much. I was too terribly bitter towards almost everything to care what happened to me. Still, when we were fairly out at sea from Plymouth, and the men began to play practical jokes upon me, I remembered the captain's words and remained cool.