I discovered her in the steerage, by Wolf Larsen’s bunk. I looked at him, the man who had been hurled down from the topmost pitch of life to be buried alive and be worse than dead. There seemed a relaxation of his expressionless face which was new. Maud looked at me and I understood. “His life flickered out in the storm,” I said. “But he still lives,” she answered, infinite faith in her voice. “He had too great strength.” “Yes,” she said, “but now it no longer shackles him. He is a free spirit.” “He is a free spirit surely,” I answered; and, taking her hand, I led her on deck. The storm broke that night, which is to say that it diminished as slowly as it had arisen. After breakfast next morning, when I had hoisted Wolf Larsen’s body on deck ready for burial, it was still blowing heavily and a large sea was running. The deck was continually awash with the sea which came inboard over the rail and through the scuppers. The wind smote the schooner with a sudden gust, and she heeled over till her lee rail was buried, the roar in her rigging rising in pitch to a shriek. We stood in the water to our knees as I bared my head. “I remember only one part of the service,” I said, “and that is, ‘And the body shall be cast into the sea.’” Maud looked at me, surprised and shocked; but the spirit of something I had seen before was strong upon me, impelling me to give service to Wolf Larsen as Wolf Larsen had once given service to another man. I lifted the end of the hatch cover and the canvas-shrouded body slipped feet first into the sea. The weight of iron dragged it down. It was gone. “Good-bye, Lucifer, proud spirit,” Maud whispered, so low that it was drowned by the shouting of the wind; but I saw the movement of her lips and knew. As we clung to the lee rail and worked our way aft, I happened to glance to leeward. The _Ghost_, at the moment, was uptossed on a sea, and I caught a clear view of a small steamship two or three miles away, rolling and pitching, head on to the sea, as it steamed toward us. It was painted black, and from the talk of the hunters of their poaching exploits I recognized it as a United States revenue cutter. I pointed it out to Maud and hurriedly led her aft to the safety of the poop. I started to rush below to the flag-locker, then remembered that in rigging the _Ghost_ I had forgotten to make provision for a flag-halyard. “We need no distress signal,” Maud said. “They have only to see us.” “We are saved,” I said, soberly and solemnly. And then, in an exuberance of joy, “I hardly know whether to be glad or not.” I looked at her. Our eyes were not loath to meet. We leaned toward each other, and before I knew it my arms were about her. “Need I?” I asked. And she answered, “There is no need, though the telling of it would be sweet, so sweet.”