young Powell.

Mr Smith gave a start. "Eh? What whale? Oh! Jonah. I wasn't
thinking of Jonah. I was thinking of this passage which seems so quick
to you. But only think what it is to me? It isn't a life, going about
the sea like this. And, for instance, if one were to fall ill, there
isn't a doctor to find out what's the matter with one. It's worrying.
It makes me anxious at times."

"Is Mrs Anthony not feeling well?" asked Powell. But Mr Smith's
remark was not meant for Mrs Anthony. She was well. He himself was
well. It was the captain's health that did not seem quite satisfactory.
Had Mr Powell noticed his appearance?

Mr Powell didn't know enough of the captain to judge. He couldn't
tell. But he observed thoughtfully that Mr Franklin had been saying
the same thing. And Franklin had known the captain for years. The mate
was quite worried about it.

This intelligence startled Mr Smith considerably. "Does he think he is
in danger of dying?" he exclaimed with an animation quite extraordinary
for him, which horrified Mr Powell.

"Heavens! Die! No! Don't you alarm yourself, sir. I've never heard a
word about danger from Mr Franklin."

"Well, well," sighed Mr Smith and left the poop for the saloon rather
abruptly.

As a matter of fact Mr Franklin had been on deck for some considerable
time. He had come to relieve young Powell; but seeing him engaged in
talk with the "enemy"--with one of the "enemies" at least--had kept at a
distance, which, the poop of the _Ferndale_ being over seventy feet
long, he had no difficulty in doing. Mr Powell saw him at the head of
the ladder leaning on his elbow, melancholy and silent. "Oh! Here you
are, sir."

"Here I am. Here I've been ever since six o'clock. Didn't want to
interrupt the pleasant conversation. If you like to put in half of your
watch below jawing with a dear friend, that's not my affair. Funny
taste though."

"He isn't a bad chap," said the impartial Powell.

The mate snorted angrily, tapping the deck with his foot; then: "Isn't
he? Well, give him my love when you come together again for another
nice long yarn."

"I say, Mr Franklin, I wonder the captain don't take offence at your
manners."

"The captain. I wish to goodness he would start a row with me. Then I
should know at least I am somebody on board. I'd welcome it, Mr
Powell. I'd rejoice. And dam' me I would talk back too till I roused
him. He's a shadow of himself.