"To the very end, sir," the old skipper's face beamed happily.
"Why, yes, my boys," Monsieur declared. "To the very end,—certainement!"
And Gates must have confided this to the crew, for later, as I passed the mate, that worthy gave his forelock a pull and whispered:
"To the very end, sir!"
It pleased me immensely.
CHAPTER VI
A VOICE FROM THE WATER
A perfect tropical night crept down on us, with the sky a deep and velvety blue, and the stars low enough to touch. Brilliant phosphorescence dashed from our bow and a silvery streak trailed in our wake emphasizing the enchantment as the Whim rose, leaned, and dipped over the bosom of the breathing Gulf. So, also, were my hopes; now up, now down, on the breast of another fickle monster. Love and the sea! Have they not always been counterparts? Do they not span the known and unknown in each man's world, carrying some in safety—others destroying?