“I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. There were three other ships at anchor; but as two would be making Shanghai and one rounding to Singapore two days hence, it was logically certain that no fugitive would seek haven in one of these. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security.
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