True son of the sea, yet he knew himself her master. She was his woman, to be loved and lorded over. He found himself brooding over her dark beauty with the stern pride of possession. Manhood was rushing in on him: its passions, its power, its splendid cruelties. He began to tingle to them. They had not met, it seemed, to know each other, these two world-old friends, for half a generation. Now once more they came together, heart to heart, man to woman, loving faithfully as ever. II The wind freshened. The sloop began to feel the sea and swing to it. She was a dark and secret ship: not a light save for the glare of the binnacle-lamp; the only sound the creak of a block, the mutter of canvas, and the chatter of waters. It was a dirty night, a wet mist blowing landward. There was no moon; only here and there a star pierced the cloud-drift. The boy groped his way forward. In the bows a dark lantern on the deck shone on a group of sea-boots. "Pretty night for our work, sir," came a cheery voice. "Might ha been made for us." "Where are we?" asked the boy. "Yon's Seaford Head, sir," as a great white dimness thrust out of the mist towards them. "We're layin along close inshore. See that glimmer forrad on the port-bow?--Ah, it's gone again! That's the Seven Sisters. And between the last o them and Beachy Head lays Birling Gap. And somewhere there or thereabouts, we'll make our cop, if a cop it's to be." "Who is it we're after?" "Lugger _Kite, sir--Black Diamond's craft.... "Funny thing fortune, sir," the man continued after a pause. "Never know how it's going to take you till you're took. Little thing sims to sway it. At one day's time there warn't a smarter seaman afloat than Bert Diamond. Might ha rose to the quarter-deck--just the sort; got a way with him and that. Only one fault, sir--the sailor's failin." "What's that?" "Too lovin by fur.... "It's generally always his one fault capsizes a man," the seaman continued. "And so it were with poor old Bert--he warn't Black at that time o day, yo'll understand." "What's the rights o that yarn, Reube?" grumbled a deep voice. "I ca'ant rightly tall ye because I don't justly knaw, Abe. They said this here Mr. Lucy--Love-me Lucy they called him in the ward-room--got messin about a'ter Diamond's gal. But anyways there it were. Diamond struck him--struck his officer." "What happened?" "Why, sir; flogged round the Fleet." A man spat noisily on the deck. "Maybe you've never seen a man flogged round the Fleet?" "Never." "Then heaven help you never may, sir. I'd liefer fight a gun in the waist through farty Fleet-actions, than see one man go through that--wouldn't you, Abe?" "Ay, that I would," grumbled the deep voice. "Ah; and so'd we all," came a windy chorus. There was a stamping of feet: then the story-teller went on, "I stood by the gang-way when he came up the side, a blanket across his shoulders. "'Ullo, Reube,' says he....