It is good that the captain is no more alone. He is a fine young
man--Heaven, what a fine young man! I love him as my son--but he is
too brave, too reckless. It is good for him to have a friend.'

I nodded and laughed, though in reality I was very far from being
amused.

'Where was it you met?' I asked.

'In an ugly place, and in ugly weather,' he answered, gravely, but
with a twinkle of fun in his eye. 'But has he not told you?' he
added, with ponderous slyness. 'I came just in time. No! what am I
saying? He is brave as a lion and quick as a cat. I think he cannot
drown; but still it was an ugly place and ugly--'

'What are you talking about, Bartels?' interrupted Davies, emerging
noisily with a boiling kettle.

I answered the question. 'I was just asking your friend how it was
you made his acquaintance.'

'Oh, he helped me out of a bit of a mess in the North Sea, didn't
you, Bartels?' he said.

'It was nothing,' said Bartels. 'But the North Sea is no place for
your little boat, captain. So I have told you many times. How did you
like Flensburg? A fine town, is it not? Did you find Herr Krank, the
carpenter? I see you have placed a little mizzen-mast. The rudder was
nothing much, but it was well that it held to the Eider. But she is
strong and good, your little ship, and--Heaven!--she had need be so.'
He chuckled, and shook his head at Davies as at a wayward child.

This is all the conversation that I need record. For my part I merely
waited for its end, determined on my course, which was to know the
truth once and for all, and make an end of these distracting
mystifications. Davies plied his friend with coffee, and kept up the
talk gallantly; but affectionate as he was, his manner plainly showed
that he wanted to be alone with me.

The gist of the little skipper's talk was a parental warning that,
though we were well enough here in the 'Ost-See', it was time for
little boats to be looking for winter quarters. That he himself was
going by the Kiel Canal to Hamburg to spend a cosy winter as a decent
citizen at his warm fireside, and that we should follow his example.
He ended with an invitation to us to visit him on the 'Johannes', and
with suave farewells disappeared into the fog. Davies saw him into
his boat, returned without wasting a moment, and sat down on the sofa
opposite me.

'What did he mean?' I asked.

'I'll tell you,' said Davies, 'I'll tell you the whole thing. As far
as you're concerned it's