"Right o'! and there's a kid, too."
"Well! What's he want to take this one up there for then?"
"I dunno—some game he's got, you take your colonial oath!"
Our conversation broke off as four bells struck, and I lay aft to relieve the wheel. From where I stood, the weather side of the wheel, I could see down into the schooner's cuddy, and I noticed that there was a large cabin on each side of the companion ladder, and beyond that the saloon. I supposed these after rooms were the captain's. A light in the little saloon—under the skylight—lit up the place sufficiently to make all clear down below. I saw the port cabin door open, and the captain's wife in a loose flowing white wrapper come into the saloon—go to the swinging tray and pour out some water from the carafe that stood there surrounded with glasses.
Mr. Chris heard the click of the glasses, and looked down the skylight. Then a strange thing happened.
Mr. Chris was just going to speak to the woman, when she hastily put her finger to her lips as if to command silence—and her eyes glanced quickly at the starboard cabin door.I wondered what it meant. Had they met before? Of course they must have done so—for I had seen her on board-—or rather heard her voice the day I agreed to ship and had the conversation with Captain Dane.
My curiosity was awakened, and I watched. Mr. Chris stood looking down the skylight with a smile on his face. The woman "blew" him a kiss with her hand, and then returned abruptly into the cabin, and I heard the click of the handle as she closed the door. Mr. Chris seemed unable to tear himself away, and it wasn't until I struck eight bells that he roused himself, gave a glanee aloft—looked all round the horizon—and then stood leaning over the rail gazing to windward.
