him in
his cabin.

"I want to tell you, Harry Brooks," said the old man, turning away
from me while he lit his pipe, "that I have been thinking over what
happened this afternoon."

"I was in the wrong, sir."

"You were; and I am glad to hear you acknowledge it. Now, what I
want to say is this. Had affairs gone in the least as I expected, I
should have held you to 'strict service,' as we used to say on the
old packets. I never tolerated a favourite on board, and never
shall. But these ladies don't make a favourite of you; that's not
the trouble. The trouble--no, I won't call it even that--is that you
and they all cannot help taking the bit between your teeth. It don't
appear to be your fault; you wasn't bred to the sea, and can't tumble
to sea-fashions. 'So much the worse,' a man might say. The plague
of it is, I can't be sure; and after casting it up and down, I've
determined to let you have your way."

"You don't mean, sir, that you're going to resign!" said I,
confounded.

"No, I don't. Saving your objections, boy, I was elected captain,
and it don't do away with my responsibility that I choose to let
discipline go to the winds. If mischief comes I shall be to blame,
because I might have stopped it but didn't."

I was silent. This should have been the time for me to tell what I
had discovered that afternoon; of the graveyard and the two strange
women. But shame tied my tongue. I saw that this noble gentleman,
in imparting his thoughts to me, was really condescending to ask my
pardon; and the injustice of it was so monstrous that I felt a
delicacy in letting him know the extent of my unworthiness.
I temporized, and promised myself a better occasion.

"But are you quite sure, sir, that yours was not the wisest plan,
after all?"

"The question is not worth considering," he answered. "My policy--
you would hardly call it a plan, for it wholly depended on
circumstances--no longer exists. The ladies, you see, have forced my
hand."

I forbore to tell him that if the ladies had forced his hand his
accepting full responsibility was simply quixotic.

"She's a wonderful woman," said I, by way of filling up the pause.

"And so womanly!" assented Captain Branscome, to my entire surprise.

"Indeed, sir," I stammered. "Well, I _have_ heard people say--Mr.
Rogers for one--that Miss Belcher ought to have been born a man."

"Miss Belcher? Why, heavens alive, boy, I was referring to Miss
Plinlimmon!"