mely cold on deck, too, the raw
fog seeming to be so much liquid ice, but, though Robert shivered, he
liked it. Any kind of fresh air was heaven after that stuffy little
cabin.

"How are you feeling, Peter?" asked the captain, although there was no
note of sympathy in his voice.

"Very well, sir, thank you," replied Robert, "and again I wish to make
my apologies for deserting, but the temptations of New York are very
strong, sir. The city went to my head."

"So it seems. We missed you on the voyage to Boston and back, but we
have you now. Doubtless Miguel has told you that you are to help him a
couple of days in his galley, and you'll stay there close. If you come
out before I give the word it's a belaying pin for you. But when I do
give the word you'll go back to your work as one of the cleverest
sailormen I ever had. You'll remember how you used to go out on the
spars in the iciest and slipperiest weather. None so clever at it as
you, Peter, and I'll soon see that you have the chance to show again
to all the men that you're the best sailor aboard ship."

Robert shivered mentally. He divined the plan of this villain, who
would send him in the icy rigging to sure death. He, an untrained
sailor, could not keep his footing there in a storm, and it could be
said that it was an accident, as it would be in the fulfilment though
not in the intent. But he divined something else that stopped the
mental shudder and that gave him renewed hope. Why should the captain
threaten him with a belaying pin if he did not stay in the cook's
galley for two days? To Robert's mind but one reason appeared, and it
was the fear that he should be seen on deck. And that fear existed
because they were yet close to land. It was all so clear to him that
he never doubted and again his heart leaped. He was bareheaded, but he
touched the place where his cap brim should have been and replied:

"I'll remember, captain."

"See that you do," said the man in level tones, instinct nevertheless
with hardness and cruelty.

Robert touched his forehead again and turned away with Miguel,
descending to the cook's galley, resolved upon some daring trial, he
did not yet know what. Here the Portuguese set him to work at once,
scouring pots and kettles and pans, and he toiled without complaint
until his arms ached. Miguel at last began to talk. He seemed to
suffer from the lack of companionship, and Robert divined that he was
the only Portuguese on board.

"