Came a day, when the trying out was done, that Brander went to Faith. "We're bung up," he said. "The last cask's sweating full." Faith nodded happily, and swung to Mr. Tichel. "Then let's for home," she said. * * * * * For the rest, the matter tells itself. They hauled in to the nearest island port and overhauled and recoopered the water casks, and took on wood and water for the five months' homeward way. They stocked with potatoes and vegetables. The crow's nests came down, and to'gallant masts were set to carry canvas on the passage. The gear was stripped from the whaleboats and stowed away, and two of the boats were lashed atop the boathouse, with the spares. The rigging had a touch of tar, the hull and spars took a lick of paint, the wood-work shone with scraping.... So, to sea. The first day out saw the dismantling of the tryworks; and broken bricks flew overside for half that day, all hands joining in the sport of it. Then a clean deck, and a stout northwest wind behind them, and the long easterly stretch to the Horn was begun.... That homeward cruise was a pleasant time for Faith and Brander. They were much together, speaking little, speaking not at all of themselves.... Save once, Faith said, smiling at him shyly: "I knew you hadn't done it, even when I told them to put you in irons...." He nodded. "I knew you knew." They both understood; their eyes said what their lips were not yet ready to say. There was a reticence upon them. Faith, on the deck of her husband's ship, felt still the shadow of Noll Wing in her life.... Brander felt its presence. It made neither of them unhappy; they respected it. Faith was never ashamed of Noll. He had been a man.... She had loved him; she was proud that he had loved her.... Day by day they were together, on deck or below, while the winds worked for them and the stars in their courses watched over them. Through the chill of southern waters as they rounded the Cape.... Cap'n Tichel looking back at it, waved his hand in valedictory; and Faith asked: "What are you thinking, Mr. Tichel?" "Saying good-by to old Cape Stiff there," he chuckled. "I'll not come this way again." "Yes, you will," she told him. "You're captain of your own ship, now.... And will be, next cruise." He shook his head. "I know when I'm well off, young lady. Old Tichel's ready to stick ashore, now...." She left him, staring back across the dull, cold sea.... He stood there stiffly till the night came down upon the waters. After that, they struck warmer winds, with a pleasant ocean all about, and the scud of spray sweet upon their cheeks, and the _Sally_ fat with oil beneath their feet. A happy time, when Faith and Brander, with never a word and never a touch of hand, grew close as man and woman can grow.... Never a cloud in the skies from their last kill to the day they picked up the tug that shunted them alongside their wharf at home. * * * * *