ANNA--[Guardedly.] Well--I dunno--what is it?

BURKE--What is it you do when you're not taking a trip with the Old Man? For I'm thinking a fine girl the like of you ain't living always on this tub.

ANNA--[Uneasily.] No--of course I ain't. [She searches his face suspiciously, afraid there may be some hidden insinuation in his words.

Seeing his simple frankness, she goes on confidently.] Well, I'll tell you. I'm a governess, see? I take care of kids for people and learn them things.

BURKE--[Impressed.] A governess, is it? You must be smart, surely.

ANNA--But let's not talk about me. Tell me about the wreck, like you promised me you would.

BURKE--[Importantly.] 'Twas this way, Miss. Two weeks out we ran into the divil's own storm, and she sprang wan h.e.l.l of a leak up for'ard.

The skipper was hoping to make Boston before another blow would finish her, but ten days back we met up with another storm the like of the first, only worse. Four days we was in it with green seas raking over her from bow to stern. That was a terrible time, G.o.d help us.

[Proudly.] And if 'twasn't for me and my great strength, I'm telling you--and it's G.o.d's truth--there'd been mutiny itself in the stokehole.

'Twas me held them to it, with a kick to wan and a clout to another, and they not caring a d.a.m.n for the engineers any more, but fearing a clout of my right arm more than they'd fear the sea itself. [He glances at her anxiously, eager for her approval.]

ANNA--[Concealing a smile--amused by this boyish boasting of his.] You did some hard work, didn't you?

BURKE--[Promptly.] I did that! I'm a divil for sticking it out when them that's weak give up. But much good it did anyone! 'Twas a mad, fightin' scramble in the last seconds with each man for himself. I disremember how it come about, but there was the four of us in wan boat and when we was raised high on a great wave I took a look about and divil a sight there was of ship or men on top of the sea.

ANNA--[In a subdued voice.] Then all the others was drowned?

BURKE--They was, surely.

ANNA--[With a shudder.] What a terrible end!

BURKE--[Turns to her.] A terrible end for the like of them swabs does live on land, maybe. But for the like of us does be roaming the seas, a good end, I'm telling you--quick and clane.

ANNA--[Struck by the word.] Yes, clean. That's yust the word for--all of it--the way it makes me feel.

BURKE--The sea, you mean? [Interestedly.] I'm thinking you have a bit of it in your blood, too. Your Old Man wasn't only a barge rat--begging your pardon--all his life, by the cut of him.

ANNA--No, he was bo'sun on sailing ships for years. And all the men on both sides of the family have gone to sea as far back as he remembers, he says. All the women have married sailors, too.

BURKE--[With intense satisfaction.] Did they, now? They had spirit in them. It's only on the sea you'd find rale men with guts is fit to wed with fine, high-tempered girls [Then he adds half-boldly] the like of yourself.

ANNA--[With a laugh.] There you go kiddin' again. [Then seeing his hurt expression--quickly.] But you was going to tell me about yourself.

You're Irish, of course I can tell that.

BURKE--[Stoutly.] Yes, thank G.o.d, though I've not seen a sight of it in fifteen years or more.

ANNA--[Thoughtfully.] Sailors never do go home hardly, do they? That's what my father was saying.

BURKE--He wasn't telling no lie. [With sudden melancholy.] It's a hard and lonesome life, the sea is. The only women you'd meet in the ports of the world who'd be willing to speak you a kind word isn't woman at all. You know the kind I mane, and they're a poor, wicked lot, G.o.d forgive them. They're looking to steal the money from you only.

ANNA--[Her face averted--rising to her feet--agitatedly.] I think--I guess I'd better see what's doing inside.

BURKE--[Afraid he has offended her--beseechingly.] Don't go, I'm saying! Is it I've given you offence with my talk of the like of them?

Don't heed it at all! I'm clumsy in my wits when it comes to talking proper with a girl the like of you. And why wouldn't I be? Since the day I left home for to go to sea punching coal, this is the first time I've had a word with a rale, dacent woman. So don't turn your back on me now, and we beginning to be friends.

ANNA--[Turning to him again--forcing a smile.] I'm not sore at you, honest.

BURKE--[Gratefully.] G.o.d bless you!

ANNA--[Changing the subject abruptly.] But if you honestly think the sea's such a rotten life, why don't you get out of it?

BURKE--[Surprised.] Work on land, is it? [She nods. He spits scornfully.] Digging spuds in the muck from dawn to dark, I suppose?

[Vehemently.] I wasn't made for it, Miss.

ANNA--[With a laugh.] I thought you'd say that.

BURKE--[Argumentatively.] But there's good jobs and bad jobs at sea, like there'd be on land. I'm thinking if it's in the stokehole of a proper liner I was, I'd be able to have a little house and be home to it wan week out of four. And I'm thinking that maybe then I'd have the luck to find a fine dacent girl--the like of yourself, now--would be willing to wed with me.

ANNA--[Turning away from him with a short laugh--uneasily.] Why, sure.

Why not?

BURKE--[Edging up close to her--exultantly.] Then you think a girl the like of yourself might maybe not mind the past at all but only be seeing the good herself put in me?

ANNA--[In the same tone.] Why, sure.

BURKE--[Pa.s.sionately.] She'd not be sorry for it, I'd take my oath!

'Tis no more drinking and roving about I'd be doing then, but giving my pay day into her hand and staying at home with her as meek as a lamb each night of the week I'd be in port.

ANNA--[Moved in spite of herself and troubled by this half-concealed proposal--with a forced laugh.] All you got to do is find the girl.

BURKE--I have found her!

ANNA--[Half-frightenedly--trying to laugh it off.] You have? When? I thought you was saying--

BURKE--[Boldly and forcefully.] This night. [Hanging his head--humbly.]

If she'll be having me. [Then raising his eyes to hers--simply.] 'Tis you I mean.

ANNA--[Is held by his eyes for a moment--then shrinks back from him with a strange, broken laugh.] Say--are you--going crazy? Are you trying to kid me? Proposing--to me!--for Gawd's sake!--on such short acquaintance? [CHRIS comes out of the cabin and stands staring blinkingly astern. When he makes out ANNA in such intimate proximity to this strange sailor, an angry expression comes over his face.]

BURKE--[Following her--with fierce, pleading insistence.] I'm telling you there's the will of G.o.d in it that brought me safe through the storm and fog to the wan spot in the world where you was! Think of that now, and isn't it queer--

CHRIS--Anna! [He comes toward them, raging, his fists clenched.] Anna, you gat in cabin, you hear!

ANNA--[All her emotions immediately transformed into resentment at his bullying tone.] Who d'you think you're talking to--a slave?

CHRIS--[Hurt--his voice breaking--pleadingly.] You need gat rest, Anna.

You gat sleep. [She does not move. He turns on BURKE furiously.] What you doing here, you sailor fallar? You ain't sick like oders. You gat in fo'c's'tle. Dey give you bunk. [Threateningly.] You hurry, Ay tal you!

ANNA--[Impulsively.] But he is sick. Look at him. He can hardly stand up.

BURKE--[Straightening and throwing out his chest--with a bold laugh.]

Is it giving me orders ye are, me bucko? Let you look out, then! With wan hand, weak as I am, I can break ye in two and fling the pieces over the side--and your crew after you. [Stopping abruptly.] I was forgetting. You're her Old Man and I'd not raise a fist to you for the world. [His knees sag, he wavers and seems about to fall. ANNA utters an exclamation of alarm and hurries to his slde.]

ANNA--[Taking one of his arms over her shoulder.] Come on in the cabin.

You can have my bed if there ain't no other place.