though he were watched by someone
was more than funny. The young second officer hesitated to break the
established rule of every ship's discipline; but at last could not resist
the temptation of getting hold of some other human being, and spoke to
the man at the wheel.

"Did you hear what this gentleman was saying to me?"

"No, sir," answered the sailor quietly. Then, encouraged by this
evidence of laxity in his officer, made bold to add, "A queer fish, sir."
This was tentative, and Mr. Powell, busy with his own view, not saying
anything, he ventured further. "They are more like passengers. One sees
some queer passengers."

"Who are like passengers?" asked Powell gruffly.

"Why, these two, sir."

CHAPTER THREE--DEVOTED SERVANTS--AND THE LIGHT OF A FLARE

Young Powell thought to himself: "The men, too, are noticing it." Indeed,
the captain's behaviour to his wife and to his wife's father was
noticeable enough. It was as if they had been a pair of not very
congenial passengers. But perhaps it was not always like that. The
captain might have been put out by something.

When the aggrieved Franklin came on deck Mr. Powell made a remark to that
effect. For his curiosity was aroused.

The mate grumbled "Seems to you? . . . Putout? . . . eh?" He buttoned
his thick jacket up to the throat, and only then added a gloomy "Aye,
likely enough," which discouraged further conversation. But no
encouragement would have induced the newly-joined second mate to enter
the way of confidences. His was an instinctive prudence. Powell did not
know why it was he had resolved to keep his own counsel as to his
colloquy with Mr. Smith. But his curiosity did not slumber. Some time
afterwards, again at the relief of watches, in the course of a little
talk, he mentioned Mrs. Anthony's father quite casually, and tried to
find out from the mate who he was.

"It would take a clever man to find that out, as things are on board
now," Mr. Franklin said, unexpectedly communicative. "The first I saw of
him was when she brought him alongside in a four-wheeler one morning
about half-past eleven. The captain had come on board early, and was
down in the cabin that had been fitted out for him. Did I tell you that
if you want the captain for anything you must stamp on the port side of
the deck? That's so. This ship is not only unlike what she used to be,
but she is like no other ship, anyhow. Did you ever hear of the
captain's