She had fairly
catapulted herself upon him, and he had been decent under the
circumstances, he thought.
He put out his light and stood with his face at the open port-hole. Only
the soft throbbing of the vessel as she made her way slowly through the
last of the Narrows into Frederick Sound came to his ears. The ship, at
last, was asleep. The moon was straight overhead, no longer silhouetting
the mountains, and beyond its misty rim of light the world was dark. Out
of this darkness, rising like a deeper shadow, Alan could make out
faintly the huge mass of Kupreanof Island. And he wondered, knowing the
perils of the Narrows in places scarcely wider than the length of the
ship, why Captain Rifle had chosen this course instead of going around
by Cape Decision. He could feel that the land was more distant now, but
the _Nome_ was still pushing ahead under slow bell, and he could smell
the fresh odor of kelp, and breathe deeply of the scent of forests that
came from both east and west.
Suddenly his ears became attentive to slowly approaching footsteps.
They seemed to hesitate and then advanced; he heard a subdued voice, a
man's voice--and in answer to it a woman's. Instinctively he drew a step
back and stood unseen in the gloom. There was no longer a sound of
voices. In silence they walked past his window, clearly revealed to him
in the moonlight.
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