This we knew, for we still maintained our night-watches.
We were waiting for him to do something, to show his hand, so to say, and his inaction puzzled and worried us.
A week of this passed by.

We had no other interest than Wolf Larsen, and his presence weighed us down with an apprehension which prevented us from doing any of the little things we had planned.
But at the end of the week the smoke ceased rising from the galley, and he no longer showed himself on the poop.

I could see Maud's solicitude again growing, though she timidly--and even proudly, I think--forbore a repetition of her request.

After all, what censure could be put upon her?
She was divinely altruistic, and she was a woman.

Besides, I was myself aware of hurt at thought of this man whom I had tried to kill, dying alone with his fellow-creatures so near.