124 The Light That Failed Cries Charnock, ‘Scatter the faggots, double that Brahmin in two, The tall pale widow for me, Joe, the little brown girl for you!’ ‘Young Joe (you’re nearing sixty), why is your hide so dark? Katie has soft fair blue eyes, who blackened yours? — Why, hark!” They were all singing now, Dick with the roar of the wind of the open sea about his ears as the deep bass voice let itself go. “The morning gun — Ho, steady! the arquebuses to me! I ha’ sounded the Dutch High Admiral’s heart as my lead doth sound the sea. Sounding, sounding the Ganges, floating down with the tide, Moore me close to Charnock, next to my nut-brown bride. My blessing to Kate at Fairlight — Holwell, my thanks to you; Steady! We steer for heaven, through sand-drifts cold and blue.” “Now what is there in that nonsense to make a man restless?” said Dick, hauling Binkie from his feet to his chest. “It depends on the man,” said Torpenhow. “The man who has been down to look at the sea,” said the Nilghai. “I didn’t know she was going to upset me in this fashion.” “That’s what men say when they go to say good-bye to a woman. It’s more easy though to get rid of three women than a piece of one’s life and surroundings.” “But a woman can be —” began Dick, unguardedly. “A piece of one’s life,” continued Torpenhow. “No, she can't.” His face darkened for a moment. “She says