hailing one of her boats, and the boatswain would not venture to send it for me.
"Besides," I reflected, "on his quarter-deck the captain is at home, and neutral ground is better for what I want to say to him, if he persists in his unjustifiable refusal. I will watch him this time, and if his boat touches the quay, he shall not succeed in avoiding me."
I returned to the Green Cormorant, and took up my post behind the window panes, which were dimmed by the hissing rain. There I waited, nervous, impatient, and in a state of growing irritation. Two hours wore away thus. Then, with the instability of the winds in the Kerguelens, the weather became calm before I did. I opened my window, and at the same moment a sailor stepped into one of the boats of the Halbrane and laid hold of a pair of oars, while a second man seated himself in the back, but without taking the tiller ropes. The boat touched the landing-place and Captain Len Guy stepped on shore.
In a few seconds I was out of the inn, and confronted him.
"Sir," said I in a cold hard tone.
Captain Len Guy looked at me steadily, and I was struck by the sadness of his eyes, which were as black as ink. Then in a very low voice he asked:
"You are a stranger?"
"A stranger at the Kerguelens? Yes."
"Of English nationality?"
"No. American."
He saluted me, and I returned the curt gesture.
"Sir," I resumed, "I believe Mr. Atkins of the Green Cormorant has spoken to you respecting a proposal
