A little while later, as Paul was taking another observation of the sun, Emily thought she saw a gleam of consciousness in the faded gaze which found her face and held it.
"Are you from the bark Daphne—the Daphne?" she asked.
Both she and Paul had discussed the possibility of this being so.
"He—walked—'tween—gyves——"
This was the strange whispered utterance that came from the cracked lips.
"Paul, he is speaking."
Lavelle laid down his sextant and knelt beside the stranger.
"I asked him," the gold woman explained, "if he belonged to the Daphne. He——Listen——"
The cracked lips were speaking again.
"He—walked—'tween—'tween with—with gyves——"