Long before noon the Kansas cleared White Horse Island. There was a

ticklish hour while Courtenay and Boyle looked for the shoal. When its

long, low sandspit was revealed by the falling tide, the ship took

thought of her agony there, and traversed those treacherous waters with

due reverence. Thenceforth, the run was due south until eight bells,

when, for the second time within a fortnight, the captain set the

course "South-40-East."

A stiff breeze blowing from the south-west, and heavy clouds rolling up

over the horizon, showed that the land of storms was repenting the

phenomenal frivolity which had let it bask in sunshine for an unbroken

spell of ten days. But the gale which whistled into Good Hope Inlet

that night carried with it no disabled and blood-stained ship. Mr.

Malcolm, who got his diminished squad of stewards in hand as though the

vessel had quitted port that day, served dinner promptly at two bells

in the second dog watch--by which no allusion is intended to an animal

already gorged to repletion--and wore a proper professional air of

annoyance because everybody was late, owing to the interesting fact

that the half-minute fixed dashing light on Evangelistas Island had

just been sighted.

Elsie noted that Count Edouard de Poincilit came with the rest, and sat

beside Isobel. Courtenay put in an appearance later to partake of a

hasty meal. He gave monsieur a black look, but, of course, catching

Elsie's eye instantly, he meekly sat down and said nothing--nothing,

that is, of an unpleasant nature. All good ladies will recognize such

behavior as one of the points of a man likely to become a model husband.

Dr. Christobal and Gray were in great form, while Tollemache actually

told a story. When the captain sent Boyle down from the bridge, Elsie

made Tollemache repeat it--a simple yarn, detailing an all-night search

for a Devonshire village, which he could not find because some rotter

had deemed it funny to turn a sign-post the wrong way round.

"Huh, that's odd," said Boyle. "Reminds me of a thing that happened to

a friend of mine, skipper of the Flower of the Ocean brig. Brown his

name was, an' he had a wooden leg. The day his son an' heir was born,

he dropped into a gin-mill to celebrate, an' his stump stuck in a rope

mat. He swore a bit, but he chanced to see on one of the half doors

the name 'Nosmo,' an', on the other, 'King.' 'Dash me,' says he,'

them's two fine names for the kid--Nosmo King Brown'--a bit of all

right, eh? So he goes home an' tells the missus. After the

christenin', he took a pal or two round to the same bar to stand treat.

That time the two halves of the door were closed, an' any ass could see

that the letters stood for 'No Smoking.' Well, the other fellows told

me his language was so sultry that his prop caught fire."




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