“What can any one want with me?” the poor girl sobbed in such a bitter tone that it cut me like a knife. Then she grew more quiet, though the tears still ran down her cheeks. I took the arm I had dropped and went on. What I said is no one’s business. But before we reached the place where she was staying she had promised to do as I had asked her. We walked slower as we drew near the house where she was staying, and those ruffians behind us began to catch up. “I niver thought it; ’pon my whurd, fer a fact, I didn’t. But ’tis clear as a tropic night, with a moon, t’ me now.” “You never think, anyways, you red-headed infernal--” “‘Pon me whurd, I forgive him, Garnett. I might av died for a principle, savin’ yer ugly prisince, but by th’ sowl av Saint Patrick I’d turn pirit this minute fer a leddy like that.” “The more fool, you, you--” “Phwat’s th’ matter with ye? She’s young and hasn’t half th’ divilments av a widder--” “If you are going to sail with me get out and get as drunk as you please. If you are not aboard in the morning I go without you. Get out! Clear!” There was something in my voice that made them look at me, and they both understood. The next minute they disappeared down a cross street. CHAPTER XXVII. A couple of hours later I went down the street with feet that felt so light that they seemed to barely touch the ground. I had had a long talk with Miss Waters and the poor woman with whom she had been staying, and the former had promised me something. I was glad to get out of the squalid little tenement parlour, for a man who is used to the fresh air of the sea is always uncomfortable in a close little room. It’s different from a fo’castle. I remember that I stopped once and started to dance a hornpipe on a dark corner nearly opposite the shipping-office. Then, fearing that some one would see me and think me drunk, which I was not, I ceased and looked quickly up and down the street. The light in the office was still burning as brightly as when I passed there a few hours earlier. I went along the pavement on the opposite side of the street until I stood directly in front of the building. Suddenly the door opened and a moment afterward the light went out. Then a figure came slowly down the front steps and looked hard at me. It was Brown, but his face was so distorted with some mental disturbance that I barely recognized him. He appeared to be suffering keenly, for his cheeks were pale and drawn, and the lines about his mouth showed plainly in the light of the street-lamp. I had never seen him look so upset, even during the time he was serving with Benson, and I hesitated about joining him. He, however, did not give me a chance, for he did not even speak to me, but walked rapidly away and disappeared down the now deserted street.