tern was burning very dim, that faint moonlight was coming in at the little windows and that the night was far advanced. He went over to stand by the helpless man.
"Is there nothing you want, is there nothing I can do for you?” he asked.
He felt a strange wave of pity for this broken being who had lived his life so hopelessly wrong and who was so near the end. Nothing he could do? What could be done, thought Hugh, so late as this? Plainly the man was of the same opinion, for his eyes looked only dull and weary hatred and, although his lips moved a little, he did not speak.
“Do you want to rest?” Hugh asked Laughing Mary, but she shook her head. “Then watch for me a little, for I am dead for sleep.”
It was bright morning when he opened his eyes and started up in dismay at having slept so long. Laughing Mary, sitting beside Jake’s bunk, looked up at him and gave him a smile, a smile of relief and gratitude this time, not the queer empty one that had given her the name. There
