Keep the _Sea Tern_ well off, and we shall meet
only too soon again.'

"Why don't I take the boy along," Mr. Aiken suggested, eyeing me a little
furtively. "He'd be right useful where we're going, and the sea would do
him good, so it would."

"I fancy you'll have enough bother without him," replied my father.
"Personally I have found him quite distracting during my short visit."

"Hell," said Mr. Aiken, "he wouldn't be no trouble, but he looks fair
ugly here, so he does, and he knows too much. No offense, sir, but he's
too up and coming to be left alone with an ignorant nigger."

My father shrugged his shoulders.

"Brutus is fond of the boy. He will not hurt him."

"But the boy might hurt the nigger," said Mr. Aiken.

My father nodded blandly toward the hall.

"And you might be seasick," he said.

"Har," roared Mr. Aiken, seemingly struck by the subtle humor of the
remark. "Damned if you wouldn't joke if the deck was blowing off under
you. Damned if I ever seen the likes of you now, captain."

Still under the spell of mirth he left us. The house door closed behind
him, and Brutus glided into the room.

"Mademoiselle," said my father bowing, "I am sorry the cards have fallen
so we must part. If you had as few pleasant things as I to remember, you
also might understand how poignantly I regret it, even though I know it
is for the best. It is time you were leaving such low company."

"I have found it pleasant sometimes," she replied a little wistfully. "It
takes very little to please me, captain."

"Sometimes," he replied, smiling, "anything is pleasant, but only
sometimes. Your brother has been notified, Mademoiselle. You should hear
from him in a little while now, when this hurry and bustle is over, and
when you see him, give him my regards and my regrets. And Mademoiselle"
--he hesitated an instant--"would you think it insolent if I said I
sometimes wished--Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle, do not take it so. It was
entirely unpardonable of me."

Mademoiselle had hidden her face in her hands. My father, frowning
slightly, rubbed his thumb along his sword blade.

"Forgive me, if you can," he said. "I have often feared my manners would
fail me sometime."

She looked up at him then, and her eyes were very bright.

"Suppose," she said softly, "I told you there was nothing to forgive.
Suppose I said--"

My father, bowing his lowest, politely and rather hastily interrupted.

"Mademoiselle would be too kind. She wo