Randall Parrish,
Wolves of the Sea — IX. A Swim to the Namur
(1918)
“ There was no one else to fear. Although I had been stationed at the wheel of the sloop as we swept past the Namur while at anchor the day before, yet Estada, watching anxiously for the secret signal of his chief, would never have accorded me so much as a glance. His interest was concentrated elsewhere, and, in all probability, he could not swear whether I was black or white. If others of that devilish crew had been secretly watching our deck it was with no thought of me ”
