Save Giles, never had any man put out in that boat with the Alien. As the two slid out under early night, Philip looked at him, wondering if his wits were sound enough to tell him this, himself misliking the instance overmuch now. The sea was black and sullen, and the wind chill; Christian, silent and indifferent, was no heartening mate; and the shadow of night brought out a lurid streak in the venture that viewed under daylight had been but dull and faint. The stealthy boat crept on till midnight; now and then from the cusp of a bay floated out the faint cry of a quail. Then thrice it sounded, when the boat swooped in, touched, and with a third aboard, sprang away swift as a fishing gull. About to the west, then, Christian steered as Philip gave word; still west and west. He did not scan the stranger with natural interest, nor had he yet asked one question on their goings, though they were stretching for a coast known to him by fatal influence. When the very roar of evil waters sounded, and through it the first expostulation of a buoy bell, Philip's scrutiny could still detect no reluctance. Oh! fain now would he see a touch of human infirmity for fellowship; night had entered his blood, and shocks of horrid fear coursed; too stark and dreadfully mute was the figure at the helm for him to be void of apprehension. And the terrors of the sinister place, that his venture was to set at nought, according to a daylight mind, came beating in against unstable defences, entered, and took possession. Christian stooped over the gunwale, peering into the dark water. At that, Philip's hand went searching hurriedly about the bow, and that he sought was missing. He braced himself and approached the Alien. 'Christian, has she never a twig of rowan at her bows?' The face that turned he could not see to read. 'No,' was the curt answer, and shaken through, he drew off with doubled thumbs. Too late now he doubted Christian to be no tool for handling with impunity. And worse he dreaded, out of a dark teeming with possibilities, dreadful to human flesh and human spirit. His hair rose, and he flung prayers to the hierarchy of heaven, but chiefly to those three--St. Mary, St. Margaret, and St. Faith. Comfort it was to draw to the side of one who abode, as he himself, within the limits of the five human senses. The quiet voice of the Adventurer rallied him. 'What goes wrong?' 'We bear no rowan, nor leaf, nor berry.' 'Rowan! for protection against evil spirits?' 'Ah! name them not. Not here and now. Rather turn your thumbs against them, and watch him.' 'Him! your chosen mate?' 'God forgive me, and help us--yes. Sir, I tell you, laughter here is more than folly--it is wickedness. No, I will not be questioned how and why. There--look there!' He grasped the sceptic's arm and pointed; Christian again had suddenly leaned down to peer over the boat's side. 'What does he see?' Philip's teeth chattered. 'God knows, I dare not think.'