The captain welcomed them, his only
passengers, using not their own names, but others that had been
chosen. In the cabin, under the swinging lantern, there followed a few
words as to weather, ports, and sailing. The tide served, the
_Seawing_ would be forth in an hour. The captain, work calling, left
them in the small lighted place.
"The boat is waiting. Now, Old Steadfast--Senor Nobody--"
"Old Saracen, we used to say that we'd go one day to India--"
"Yes--"
"Well, let us go!"
"_Us_--"
"Why not?"
They stood with the table between them. Alexander's hands moved toward
Ian's. They took hands; there followed a strong, a convulsive
pressure.
"We sin in differing ways and at differing times," said Alexander,
"but we all sin. And we all struggle with it and through it and
onward! And there must be some kind of star upon our heights. Well,
let us work toward it together, Old Saracen!"
They went out of the cabin and upon the deck. The boat that had
brought them was gone. They saw it in the moonlight, half-way back to
the quay. On the _Seawing_, sailors were lifting anchor. They stood
and watched. The moon was paling; there came the scent of morning; far
upon the shore a cock crew. The _Seawing's_ crew were making sail. Out
and up went her pinions, filled with a steady and favoring wind. She
thrilled; she moved; she left the harbor for a new voyage, fresh
wonder of the eternal world.
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