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“‘His plumage will be as white as your own very soon,’ said the Mother Albatross. ‘I suppose it’s the climate that does it.’

“‘He is getting older,’ said her mate; ‘men, like ourselves, get white as they get old.’

“‘But he has been here so short a time,’ said Mother Albatross.

“‘He is so much the older, however,’ said the father bird, and his mate said no more; for she knew by the tone of his voice when he had got to the end of his available information on any subject, and that beyond this point he did not like to be pressed.

“‘It’s hard, it’s very hard, captain, and I can’t submit as you do,’ said one of the men one day. He and the captain were sitting side by side at the look out, their elbows on their knees, and their chins upon their hands.

“‘And yet it’s harder for me than for you,’ said the captain. ‘One must die some day. It’s not that. And you are a single man, Barker, without ties.’

“The man stooped down, and taking one of Carlo’s long ears in his hand, played absently with it, as he said–

“‘No, sir. I am not married, it’s true, and have no children. I feel for you, sir, from my heart. But in a little house just out of Plymouth, that, God above knows, I can see this moment as clearly as I see you, there’s a girl that has either forgotten me, or is breaking as good a heart as ever beat in woman’s breast for the man that should have been her husband, and that’s fast bound here upon a rock with sea-birds. The Lord knows best, captain, but it comes hard. We all have our troubles, sir.’

“The captain laid his hand upon his shoulder.

“‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘God comfort you! God bless you!’ And, rising hurriedly, he went forward, the big tears breaking over his cheeks, and sea and sky dancing together before his eyes.

“‘What do you dream of at night, Barker?’ said the captain, on another day.

“‘Home, sir,’ said Barker.

“‘Strange!’ said the captain. ‘So do I. In all the time we have been here, I have never once dreamed of this island, or of our day’s work, nor even of seeing a sail. I dream of England night after night.’

“‘It’s the same with myself, sir,’ said Barker. ‘I’m in Plymouth half my time, I may say. And off and on I dream of my father’s old home in Surrey.’

“‘Are the men going to change their feathers, do you think?’ the Mother Albatross inquired of her mate. ‘They have a most wretched appearance. Only the dog looks like himself.’ (The first excitement of pity and curiosity had subsided, and the good couple were now naturally inclined to be critical.)

“‘I detest that dog,’ said Father Albatross. ‘His idleness and arrogance make me quite sick. I think I want exercise, too, and I mean to have a good flight to-day;’ and, spreading his broad wings, the bird sailed away.

“His excursion did not quite dispel his irritability. When he returned, he settled down by the captain, who was sitting listlessly, as usual, with Carlo at his feet.

“‘If you would only exert yourself,’ began Father Albatross, ‘something might come of it. You are getting as bad as the dog. Spread out those arms of yours, and see what you can do with them! If you could only fly a matter of a few miles, you would see a sail–and that’s more than we had any reason to expect.’

“‘What can be the matter with the birds to-day?’ said the captain, who was in rather an irritable mood himself. ‘They are silent enough generally’–for the voice of the albatross is rarely heard at sea.

“‘Move your arms, I tell you,’ croaked the albatross. ‘Up and down–so!–and follow me.’

“‘I shall have the dog going at them next,’ muttered the captain. ‘Come along, Carlo.’ And turning his back on Father Albatross, he moved away.