_The movement stopped in front of a tier of three berths; on the bottom one lay a young man with a starved, pallid face. His mop of hair was bleached white. On his chest was a pulsing darkness, a black flame, a dark heart, shimmering with the indistinctness of absolute shadow. On the top bunk a great form like a bloated corpse lay. One huge arm hung over the bunk, flabbed, puffy, without muscle._ _In the center berth was an anonymous bundle of blankets completely covering the figure inside. On this the scene fixed, drew closer ... and the paleness suddenly faded before darkness, into shadow, into nothing._ * * * * * Geo sat up and knuckled his eyes. The dark forecastle was relieved by the yellow glow of the lamp. The gaunt mate stood across the room. "Hey, you," he was saying to a man in one of the bunks, "up and out. We're sailing." The figure roused itself from the tangle of bedding. The mate moved to another. "Up, you dog face. Up, you fish fodder. We're sailing." Turning around, he saw Geo watching him. "And what's wrong with you?" he demanded. "We're sailing, didn't you hear? Naw, you go back to sleep. Your turn will come, but we need experienced ones now." He grinned briefly, and then went on to one more. "Eh, you stink like an old wine cask. Raise yourself out of your fumes. We're sailing!" CHAPTER IV "That dream," Geo said to Urson a moment after the mate left. Urson looked down from his bunk. "You had it too?" Both turned to Snake. "I guess that was your doing, eh?" Urson said. Snake scrambled down from the upper bunk. "Did you go wandering around the deck last night and do some spying?" Geo asked. By now most of the other sailors had risen, and one suddenly stepped between Urson and Geo. "'Scuse me, mate," he said and shook the figure in the second berth. "Hey, Whitey, come on. You can't be that soused from last night. Get up or you'll miss mess." The young sailor shook the figure again. "Hey, Whitey." The figure in the blankets was unresponsive. The sailor gave him one more good shake, and as he rolled over, the blanket fell away from the blond head. The eyes were wide and dull, the mouth half open. "Hey, Whitey," the black sailor said again, and then he stepped back, slowly. * * * * * Mist enveloped the ship three hours out from port. Urson was called for duty right after breakfast, but no one bothered either Snake or Geo that first morning. Snake would slip off somewhere and Geo would be left to wander the ship alone. He was walking beneath the dories when the heavy slap of bare feet on the wet deck materialized in Urson. "Hey," greeted his friend. "What are you doing under here?" "Nothing much," Geo said.