"Up the ladder again to a room the size of a state-room with the berths out. Inside, on a plank resting on two supports, lay the crude, roughly hewn outline of a man wrapped in canvas, a flattened hump showing the feet and a round mass the head. Past this open door men walked carrying kettles of soup for the steerage. Outside in the corridor were heard sounds of hammering; the box was being made ready. "Up a third ladder to Hunter's room. I stopped long enough to replace my coat and wash the grime from my hands and then sought the deck. "She was still in her steamer chair, the roses in her lap. Not a cloud dimmed the sky; a soft, fresh, sweet air blew from the moonlit sea; the pathway of silver was still clear; souls could go to God straight up that ladder without missing a step, so bright was it. From the crowded deck came the sound of voices; some low and muffled, others breaking out into song and laughter. "'Where have you been?' she called out. 'What did the Engineer want? Tell me, please; something had happened; I saw it in your face. Was anyone ill?' "'Yes; but he is better now,' and my eye travelled the pathway of silver. "'Oh, I am so sorry! Shall you see him again?' "'Yes, at twelve.' "'Tell me about it; can I help?' "'No.' "'Is anyone with him--anyone he loves?' "'No, he is quite alone.' "'Poor, poor fellow! Give him these, please,' and she laid the roses in my hand. "Some hours later the messenger again tapped me on the shoulder. "'All ready, sir, Mr. Hunter says.' "On the lower deck, close to the sea, a deck slashed with racing waves in a storm, were grouped a body of sailors and officers; all had their coats and caps on. Against the wall of the ship stood the Captain, an open book in his hand. Above his head flared a bull's-eye backed by a ship's reflector, marking the high light in the composition. Beneath him, almost under the book, which cast a shadow like the outstretched wings of a bird, lay a black box, straight-sided and flat-topped. I edged my way through the encircling crowd and stood nearer, the roses in my hand. "The words now fell clear and strong from the Captain's lips, every man uncovering his head. "'Man that is born of woman----' "I reached down to lay the flowers on the lid--loose, as she had given them to me. "Hunter tapped me on the arm. He was grave and dignified, and I thought his voice trembled as he spoke. "'Better twist a bit of tarred marlin round 'em, sir,' he whispered; 'he'll lose 'em if you don't. Hand me a piece'--this to a sailor. 'That's it, sir; a little tighter--so!' "'He cometh up and is cut down like a flower----' "I bent over and laid the roses on the box. The men pressed closer to look. Roses, on a man like him! [Illustration: The men pressed closer to look. "Roses, on a man like him!"] "Again the Captain's reverent tones rang out: "'We therefore commit his body to the deep----'