He looked about him.

A corner of the house was interposed between the captain and himself; all was well; no eye must see him in that last act.

He slid silently into the boat; thence, silently, into the starry water.
Instinctively he swam a little; it would be time enough to stop by and by.
The shock of the immersion brightened his mind immediately.

The events of the ignoble day passed before him in a frieze of pictures, and he thanked 'whatever Gods there be' for that open door of suicide.

In such a little while he would be done with it, the random business at an end, the prodigal son come home.