, in challenging tones.

Miss Drewitt made no reply. Rejoinder was dangerous and silence
difficult. In a state of nervous indignation she rang for Mr. Tasker and
instructed him to take away the tea-things; to sweep the hearth; and to
alter the position of two pictures. By the time all this was
accomplished she had regained her wonted calm and was airing some rather
strong views on the subject of two little boys who lived with a catapult
next door but one.

CHAPTER XVIII

Month by month the _Fair Emily_ crept down south. The Great Bear and
other constellations gave way to the stars of the southern skies, and Mr.
Chalk tried hard not to feel disappointed with the arrangement of those
in the Southern Cross. Pressed by the triumphant Brisket, to whom he
voiced his views, he had to admit that it was at least as much like a
cross as the other was a bear.

As they got farther south he had doffed his jersey and sea boots in
favour of a drill suit and bare feet. In this costume, surmounted by a
Panama hat, he was the only thing aboard that afforded the slightest
amusement to Mr. Stobell, whose temper was suffering severely under a
long spell of monotonous idleness, and whose remarks concerning the sea
and everything in connection with it were so strangely out of keeping
with the idea of a pleasure cruise that Mr. Tredgold lectured him
severely on his indiscretion.

"Stobell is no more doing this for pleasure than I am," said Captain
Brisket to Mr. Duckett. "It's something big that's brought him all this
way, you mark my words."

The mate nodded acquiescence. "What about Mr. Chalk?" he said, in a low
voice. "Can't you get it out of him?"

[Illustration: The "Fair Emily"]

"Shuts up like an oyster directly I get anywhere near it," replied the
captain; "sticks to it that it is a yachting trip and that Tredgold is
studying the formations of islands. Says he has got a list of them he is
going to visit."

"Mr. Tredgold was talking the same way to me," said the mate. "He says
he's going to write a book about them when he goes back. He asked me
what I thought'ud be a good title."

"I know what would be a good title for him," growled Brisket, as Mr.
Stobell came on deck and gazed despondently over the side. "We're
getting towards the end of our journey, sir."

"End?" said Mr. Stobell. "End? I don't believe there is an end. I
believe you've lost your way and we shall go sailing on and on for ever."