bearing no resistance. While the boat pulled away into the darkness astern, carrying the anchor to the full scope of the cable, Dolores kept her eyes ever aloft, and over the sea, and upon every detail of the work. Her eyes fell upon Peters, standing in sullen mood at the belaying-pin which held a turn of the main-throat halyards. And as the croaking cry of Caliban ordered “Belay!” she called Peters to her.

“Thou’rt sailing-master, hey?”

“I was.”

“Art still, if thy heart is as stubborn as thy face!” cried Dolores, laughing at his scowl. “Canst sail thy ship now?”

“I can sail any ship that floats, but neither I nor your sharks can sail this schooner now,”