"I thought you were abed this long time," said the young man.
"No," said the clerk, "I cannot sleep. I must watch."
"Watch?" said Anthony. As he looked at the man, the pale, luminous something which he'd always noticed in him seemed magnified. The white, still moonlight seemed kin to him; he was as strange, as quiet, and as cold.
"There are memories," said Tom Horn, "memories of nights like this; they were nights in which my soul was troubled. In the quiet I heard stirrings that had no place in the world; in the light I saw things God had not sanctioned. It is ill for a man to be alone; and I was alone for a long, long time. At first odd things pass before him—things he has not known; then they become strange; then monstrous. For there is death within life; there is evil within good. Surrounded by other souls, a man is safe; but when he is abandoned, as I was abandoned, when there is no spirit to touch his own in kindness, he is naked to evil things, and God's world is far away."
"God's world is here," said Anthony. "Where sea and sky meet, there He is; no matter how remote the place, or how desolate, God stands there, armed against evil."
The wan moon lighted the clerk's face, and Anthony saw him smile.
"That saying is good; it is the touch of a friendly spirit," he said. "Let two souls be together, and they make each other strong. But let one be alone, as I was alone, let there be no warmth, no kindliness, and hope dies. Horrors creep in; the nether world comes close, and the corporal eye, grown keen by the soul's suffering, is witness to things it should not see."
Just then there came one of the deep movements which Anthony had noted more than once; the ocean's scum seemed to heave under the moon. Tom Horn's hand touched Anthony's arm and held there; his voice fell to a whisper.
"It is very deep," he said. "Oh, quite deep! I never sounded it. The life below is monstrous. Ask God that the sight of His work be kept from your eyes."
Then the man went quietly back to his post in the bow; and Anthony continued to pace and watch until Corkery came on deck to relieve him. The wind held all through the night, languid, hot, and of not a deal of weight; but it bellied the sails and added its urge to the drift of the current, and the schooner slowly approached the group of broken ships.