Why? The punishment was too great for a little presumption, for a little pride. And at last he came to cling to his deception with a fierce determination to carry it out to the end, to save her money intact, and behold her once more with his own eyes. Afterwards--what? The idea of suicide was revolting to the vigor of his manhood. He had prayed for death till the prayers had stuck in his throat. All the days of his life he had prayed for daily bread, and not to be led into temptation, in a childlike humility of spirit. Did words mean anything? Whence did the gift of speech come? The violent beating of his heart reverberated in his head--seemed to shake his brain to pieces. He sat down heavily in the deck-chair to keep the pretense of his watch. The night was dark. All the nights were dark now. “Serang,” he said, half aloud. “Ada, Tuan. I am here.” “There are clouds on the sky?” “There are, Tuan.” “Let her be steered straight. North.” “She is going north, Tuan.” The Serang stepped back. Captain Whalley recognized Massy’s footfalls on the bridge. The engineer walked over to port and returned, passing behind the chair several times. Captain Whalley detected an unusual character as of prudent care in this prowling. The near presence of that man brought with it always a recrudescence of moral suffering for Captain Whalley. It was not remorse. After all, he had done nothing but good to the poor devil. There was also a sense of danger--the necessity of a greater care. Massy stopped and said-- “So you still say you must go?” “I must indeed.” “And you couldn’t at least leave the money for a term of years?” “Impossible.” “Can’t trust it with me without your care, eh?” Captain Whalley remained silent. Massy sighed deeply over the back of the chair. “It would just do to save me,” he said in a tremulous voice. “I’ve saved you once.” The chief engineer took off his coat with careful movements, and proceeded to feel for the brass hook screwed into the wooden stanchion. For this purpose he placed himself right in front of the binnacle, thus hiding completely the compass-card from the quartermaster at the wheel. “Tuan!” the lascar at last murmured softly, meaning to let the white man know that he could not see to steer.