He stood wavering for a moment, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spluttered.

Then, looking straight in front of him, with that strange air of a whipped dog which humble men wear when the hand of Heaven is upon them, he staggered up the beach toward the river and Farlingford.
"Where are ye goin' ?" some one asked.
"Over to mine," was the reply.

"A'm going to my old woman, shipmets." And he staggered away in the darkness..