"But if the water gains upon the ship you will not be able to save her?" "No, she must sink." "What will you do then?" "Put you on shore or on board another ship," I replied, laughing at my own evasion, for I knew what she meant. "Oh, of course, if we do not reach the shore we shall none of us be able to do anything," she said, dropping her head, for she stood close enough to the binnacle light to enable me to see her movements and almost catch the expression on her face. "I mean what will you do when we get ashore?" "I must try to get another ship." "To command?" "Oh dear no! as second mate, if they'll have me." "If command of a ship were given you would you accept it?" "If I could, but I can't." She asked quickly, "Why not?" "Because I have not passed an examination as master." She was silent again, and I caught myself listening eagerly to the sound of the pumping going on on the main-deck and wondering at my own levity in the face of our danger. But I could not help forgetting a very great deal when she was at my side. All at once it flashed upon me that her father owned several ships, and that her questions were preliminary to her offering me the command of one of them. I give you my honour that all recollection of who and what she was, of her station on shore, of her wealth as the old man's heiress, had as absolutely gone out of my mind as if the knowledge had never been imparted. What she was to me--what love and the wonderful association of danger and death had endeared her to me as--was what she was as she stood by my side, a sweet and gentle woman whom my heart was drawing closer and closer to every hour, whose life I would have died to preserve, whose danger made my own life a larger necessity to me than I should have felt it. A momentary emotion of disappointment, a resentment whereof I knew not the meaning, through lacking the leisure or the skill to analyse it, made me turn and say-- "Would you like me to command one of your ships, Miss Robertson?" "Yes," she answered, promptly. "As a recompense for my humane efforts to preserve you from drowning?" She withdrew her hand from my arm and inclined her head to look me full in the face. "Mr. Royle, I never thought you would speak to me like that." "I want no recompense for what I have done, Miss Robertson." "I have not offered you any recompense." "Let me feel," I said, "that you understand it is possible for an English sailor to do his duty without asking or expecting any manner of reward. The Humane Society's medals are not for him." "Why are you angry with me?" she exclaimed, sinking her head, and speaking with a little sob in her voice. I was stirred to the heart by her broken tones, and answered-- "I am not angry. I could not be angry with you. I wish you to feel that what I have done, that whatever I may do is ... is...." I faltered and stopped--an ignominious break down! though I think it concealed the true secret of my resentment.