In the bows he stood for some time, leaning with folded arms against a pillar, his eyes fixed upon the line of lights ahead.

The great waves now leaped into the moonlight, the wind sang in the rigging and came booming across the waters, the salt spray stung his cheeks.

High above his head, the slender mast, with its Marconi attachment, swang and dived, reached out for the stars, and fell away with a shudder.

The man who watched, stood and dreamed until the voyage was almost over.

Then he turned on his heel and went back to see how his cabin companion was faring.
Mr.Coulson was sitting on the edge of his bunk.