"Two sailors stooped down and raised one end of the box. There came a grating sound, a splash, and the highway of silver was broken into steps of light. "The Captain closed his book, the crowd opening to let him pass; the crew went back to their tasks--the sailor with tarred marlin to finish the bight of the cable he was whipping, the men to their furnaces, Hunter to his desk, I to where the girl reclined in her chair. She recognized my step and half raised herself toward me, as if eager to catch my first word. "'Did he like the roses?' she asked, her voice full of tenderness. "'Yes.' "Where did you put them--by his bedside?' "'No, on his breast.' "'Poor fellow, I'm so sorry for him! Did you tell him I sent them?' "'He knows.' "'What did he say?' "'Nothing--but he will some day.' "Her eyes widened. "'When? Where?' "'In heaven.' "The eyelids relaxed again, and a smile lighted up her face. She saw now that I was not in earnest. Then a sudden thought possessed her. "'What is his name?' The inquiry came quick and sharp and with an anxious tone, as if she had been remiss in not asking before. "'He has none--not aboard ship.' "'Has no name! Why, I never heard of such a thing. How very strange!' "'No, not among stokers; stokers never have any names. This one was called "Number Seven."'" * * * * * Mac stopped and leaned toward the fire, his head in his hands, the fingers covering the eyes. Not once during the long narrative had he looked at me. He had been speaking like one in a trance, or as one speaks to himself when alone. That I had been present was of no consequence; I was no more than the portraits and studies on the walls, not so much as the andirons and the fire. That I had listened in complete silence was what pleased him. This, I think, is one reason why he so often unburdens his heart to me. Mac straightened his back, rose to his feet and took a turn around the room, restlessly, as if the tale had stirred other memories which he was trying to banish; then he dropped again into his chair. "That's what I mean by the other side of the brick wall, old man. Makes your blood boil, doesn't it? Did mine." "And the girl in the chair never knew?" "No, and never will. He did; he looked back as he mounted the silver steps, and pointed her out to the angel helping him up the ladder. God knew what he had suffered, and wiped out whatever there was against him." There was a tone now in Mac's voice that thrilled me. For a moment I did not trust myself to speak. "And about the letter--did you read it?"