My Danish Sweetheart: A Novel. Volume 2 of 3

by William Clark Russell

BUNTING'S FORECASTLE FARE.

When breakfast was ended, Helga left the table, to go to her cabin. Punmeamootty began to clear away the things.

'You can go forward,' said the Captain. 'I will call you when I want you.' I was about to rise. 'A minute, Mr. Tregarthen,' he exclaimed. He lay back in his chair, stroking first one whisker and then the other, with his eyes thoughtfully surveying the upper deck, at which he smiled as though elated by some fine happy fancies. He hung in the wind in this posture for a little while, then inclined himself with a confidential air towards me, clasping his fat fingers upon the table.

'Miss Nielsen,' said he softly, 'is an exceedingly attractive young lady.'

'She is a good brave girl,' said I, 'and pretty, too.'

'She calls you Hugh, and you call her Helga—Helga! a very noble, stirring name—quite like the blast of a trumpet, with something Biblical about it, too, though I do not know that it occurs in Holy Writ. Pray forgive me. This familiar interchange of names suggests that there may be more between you than exactly meets the eye, as the poet observes.'

'No!' I answered with a laugh that was made short by surprise. 'If you mean to ask whether we are sweethearts, my answer is—No. We met for the first time on the twenty-first of this month, and since then our experiences have been of a sort to forbid any kind of emotion short of a profound desire to get home.'

'Home!' said he. 'But her home is in Denmark?'

'Her father, as he lay dying, asked me to take charge of her, and see her safe to Kolding, where I believe she has friends,' I answered, not choosing to hint at the little half-matured programme for her that was in my mind.

'She is an orphan,' said he; 'but she has friends, you say?'

'I believe so,' I answered, scarcely yet able to guess at the man's meaning.

'You have known her since the twenty-first,' he exclaimed: 'to-day is the thirty-first—just ten days. Well, in that time a shrewd young gentleman like you will have observed much of her character. I may take it,' said he, peering as closely into my face as our respective positions at the table would suffer, 'that you consider her a thoroughly religious young woman?'

'Why, yes, I should think so,' I answered, not suffering my astonishment to hinder me from being as civil and conciliatory as possible to this man, who, in a sense, was our deliverer, and who, as our host, was treating us with great kindness and courtesy.

'I will not,' said he, 'inquire her disposition. She impresses me as a very sweet young person. Her manners are genteel. She talks with an educated accent, and I should say her lamented father did not stint his purse in training her.'

I looked at him, merely wondering what he would say next.

'It is, at all events, satisfactory to know,' said he, lying back in his chair again, 'that there is nothing between you—outside, I mean, the friendship which the very peculiar circumstances under which you met would naturally excite.' He lay silent awhile, smiling. 'May I take it,' said he, 'that she has been left penniless?'

'I fear it is so,' I replied.

He meditated afresh.

'Do you think,' said he, 'you could induce her to accompany you in my ship to the Cape?'

'No!' cried I, starting, 'I could not induce her, indeed, and for a very good reason: I could not induce myself.'

'But why?' he exclaimed in his oiliest tone. 'Why decline to see the great world, the wonders of this noble fabric of universe, when the opportunity comes to you? You shall be my guests; in short, Mr. Tregarthen, the round voyage shan't cost you a penny!'

'You are very good!' I exclaimed, 'but I have left my mother alone at home. I am her only child, and she is a widow, and my desire is to return quickly, that she may be spared unnecessary anxiety and grief.'

'A very proper and natural sentiment, pleasingly expressed,' said he; 'yet I do not quite gather how your desire to return to your mother concerns Helga—I should say, Miss Nielsen!'

I believe he would have paused at 'Helga,' and not have added 'Miss Nielsen,' but for the look he saw in my face. Yet, stirred as my temper was by this half-hearted stroke of impertinent familiarity in the man, I took care that there should be no further betrayal of my feelings than what might be visible in my looks.

'Miss Nielsen wishes to return with me to my mother's house,' said I quietly; 'you were good enough to assure us that there should be no delay.'

'You only arrived yesterday!' he exclaimed, 'and down to this moment we have sighted nothing. But why do you suppose,' added he, 'that Miss Nielsen is not to be tempted into making the round voyage with me in this barque?'

'She must speak for herself,' said I, still perfectly cool, and no longer in doubt as to how the land lay with this gentleman.

'You have no claim upon her, Mr. Tregarthen?' said he, with one of his blandest smiles.

'No claim whatever,' said I, 'outside the obligation imposed upon me by her dying father. I am her protector by his request, until I land her safely among her friends in Denmark.'

'Just so,' said he; 'but it might happen—it might just possibly happen,' he continued, letting his head fall on one side and stroking his whiskers, 'that circumstances may arise to render her return to Denmark under your protection unnecessary.'

I looked at him, feigning not to understand.

'Now, Mr. Tregarthen, see here,' said he, and his blandness yielded for an instant to the habitual professional peremptoriness of the shipmaster; 'I am extremely desirous of making Miss Nielsen's better acquaintance, and I am also much in earnest in wishing that she should get to know my character very well. This cannot be done in a few hours, nor, indeed, in a few days. You will immensely oblige me by coaxing the young lady to remain in this vessel. There is nothing between you.... Just so. She is an orphan, and there is reason to fear, from what you tell me, comparatively speaking, friendless. We must all of us desire the prosperity of so sweet and amiable a female. It may happen,' he exclaimed, with a singularly deep smile, 'that before many days have passed, she will consent to bid you farewell and to continue the voyage alone with me.'

I opened my eyes at him, but said nothing.

'A few days more or less of absence from your home,' he continued, 'cannot greatly signify to you. We have a right to hope, seeing how virtuously, honourably, and heroically you have behaved, that Providence is taking that care of your dear mother which, let us not doubt, you punctually, morning and night, offer up your prayers for. But a few days may make a vast difference in Miss Nielsen's future; and, having regard to the solemn obligation her dying father imposed upon you, it should be a point of duty with you, Mr. Tregarthen, to advance her interests, however inconvenienced you may be by doing so.'

Happily, his long-windedness gave me leisure to think. I could have answered him hotly; I could have given him the truth very nakedly; I could have told him that his words were making me understand there was more in my heart for Helga than I had been at all conscious of twenty minutes before. But every instinct in me cried, Beware! to the troop of emotions hurrying through my mind, and I continued to eye him coolly and to speak with a well-simulated carelessness.

'I presume, Captain Bunting,' said I, 'that if Miss Nielsen persists in her wish to leave your ship you will not hinder her?'

'That will be the wish I desire to extinguish,' said he; 'I believe it may be done.'

'You will please remember,' said I, 'that Miss Nielsen is totally unequipped even for a week or two of travel by sea, let alone a round voyage that must run into months.'

'I understand you,' he answered, motioning with his hand; 'but the difficulty is easily met. The Canary Islands are not far off. Santa Cruz will supply all her requirements. My purse is wholly at her service. And with regard to yourself, Mr. Tregarthen, I should be happy to advance you any sum in moderation, to enable you to satisfy your few wants.'

'You are very good,' said I; 'but I am afraid we shall have to get you to tranship us at the first opportunity.'

A shadow of temper, that was not a frown, and therefore I do not know well how to convey it, penetrated his smile.

'You will think over it,' said he. 'Time does not press. Yet we shall not find another port so convenient as Santa Cruz.'

As he pronounced these words Helga entered the cuddy. He instantly rose, bowing to her and smiling, but said no more than that he hoped shortly to join us on deck. He then entered his berth.

Helga approached me close, and studied my face for a moment or two in silence with her soft eyes.

'What is the matter, Hugh?' she asked.

I looked at her anxiously and earnestly, not knowing as yet how to answer her, whether to conceal or to tell her what had passed. I was more astonished than irritated, and more worried and perplexed than either. Here was an entanglement that might vastly amuse an audience in a comedy, but that, in its reality, was about as grave and perilous a complication as could befall us. With the velocity of thought, even while the girl's eyes were resting on mine and she was awaiting my reply, I reflected—first, that we were in the power of this Captain, in respect, I mean, of his detention of us, while his vessel remained at sea; next, that he had fallen in love with Helga; that he meant to win her if he could; that his self-complacency would render him profoundly hopeful, and that he would go on keeping us on board his craft, under one pretext or another, in the conviction that his chance lay in time, with the further help that would come to him out of her condition as an orphan and penniless.

'What is it, Hugh?'

The sudden, brave, determined look that entered the girl's face, as though she had scented a danger, and had girded her spirit for it, determined me to give her the truth.

'Come on deck!' said I.

I took her hand, and we went up the little companion-steps.

Abraham was standing near the wheel, exchanging a word or two with the yellowskin who had replaced the fierce-faced creature of the earlier morning. There was warmth in the sun, and the sky was a fine clear blue dome, here and there freckled by remains of the interlacery of cloud which had settled away into the west and north. The breeze was a soft, caressing air, with a hint of tropic breath and of the equatorial sea-perfume in it, and the round-bowed barque was sliding along at some four or five miles an hour, with a simmering noise of broken waters at her side. There was nothing in sight. Two or three copper-coloured men squatted, with palms and needles in their hands, upon a sail stretched along the waist; Nakier, on the forecastle-head, was standing with a yellow paw at the side of his mouth, calling instructions, in some Asiatic tongue, to one of the crew in the foretopmast cross-trees. I caught sight of Jacob, who was off duty, leaning near the galley door, apparently conversing with some man within. He nodded often, with an occasional sort of pooh-poohing flourish of his hand, puffing leisurely, and enjoying the sunshine. On catching sight of us he saluted with a flourish of his fist. This was the little picture of the barque as I remember it on stepping on deck with Helga that morning.

I took her to leeward, near the quarter-boat, out of hearing of Abraham and the helmsman.

'Now, what is it, Hugh?' said she.

'Why should you suppose there is anything wrong, Helga?'

'I see worry in your face.'

'Well,' said I, 'here is exactly how matters stand;' and with that I gave her, as best my memory could, every sentence of the Captain's conversation. She blushed, and turned pale, and blushed again; the shadows of a dozen emotions passed over her face in swift succession, and strongest among them was consternation.

'You were vexed with me for not being civil enough to him,' said she, 'and you would not understand that the civiller I was the worse it might be with us. Such a conceited, silly creature would easily mistake.'

'Could I imagine that he was in love with you?'

'Do not say that again!' she cried, with disgust in her manner, while she made as though to stop her ears.

'How could I guess?' I went on. 'His behaviour seemed to me full of benevolence, hospitality, gratification at having us to talk to, with courtesy marked to you as a girl delivered from shipwreck and the hardships of the ocean.

'Will no ship come?' she cried, looking round the sea. 'The thought of remaining in this vessel, of having to disguise my feelings from that man for policy's sake, of being forced to sit in his company and listen to him, and watch his smile and receive his attentions and compliments, grows now intolerable to me!' and she brought her foot with a little stamp to the deck.

'Did you know you were so fascinating?' said I, looking at her. 'In less than a day you have brought this pale, stout Captain to your feet. In less than a day! Why, your charms have the potency of Prospero's magic. In "The Tempest," Ferdinand and Miranda fall deeply in love, plight their troth, bill and coo and gamble at chess, all within three hours. This little ship promises to be the theatre of another "Tempest," I fear.'

'Why did not you make him understand, resolutely compel him to understand, that it is our intention to return to England in the first ship?' she exclaimed, with a glow in her blue eyes and a trace of colour in her cheeks and a tremor in her nostrils.

'Bluntness will not do. We must not convert this man into an enemy.'

'But he should be made to know that we mean to go home, and that his ideas——' she broke off, turning scarlet on a sudden, and looked down over the rail at the sea with a gleam of her white teeth showing upon the under-lip she bit.

'Helga,' said I, gently touching her hand, 'you are a better sailor than I. What is to be done?'

She confronted me afresh, her blue eyes darkened by the suppressed tears which lay close to them.

'Let us,' I continued, 'look this matter boldly in the face. He is in love with you.' For a second time she stamped her foot and bit her lip. 'I must say it, for there lies the difficulty. He hopes, by keeping you on board, to get you to like, and then, perhaps, listen to him. He will keep me, too, for the present—not because he is at all desirous of my company, but because he supposes that in your present mood, or rather attitude, of mind you would not stay without me, or at least alone with him.'

Her whole glowing countenance breathed a vehement 'No!'

'He need not speak passing ships unless he chooses to do so,' I went on; 'and I don't doubt he has no intention of speaking passing ships. What then? How are we to get home?'

The expression on her face softened to a passage of earnest thought.

'We must induce him to steer his ship to Santa Cruz,' she exclaimed.

'You will have to act a part, then,' said I, after pausing to consider. 'He is no fool. Can you persuade him that you are in earnest in wishing to go the Cape in this ship? If not, his long nose will sniff the stratagem, and Santa Cruz in a few days be remoter than it now is.'

She reflected, and exclaimed: 'I must act a part if we are to get away from this vessel. What better chance have we than Santa Cruz? We must go ashore to make our purchases, and when ashore we must stop there. Yet what a degrading, what a ridiculous, what a wretched position to be in!' she cried. 'I would make myself hideous with my nails to end this!' and with a dramatic gesture I should have deemed the little gentle creature incapable of, she put her fingers to her cheeks.

Abraham was now patrolling the deck to windward, casting his eyes with a look of importance up at the sails, and then directing them at the sea-line. He would, to be sure, find nothing to excite his curiosity in this subdued chat betwixt Helga and me to leeward. I had a mind to call him and explain our new and astonishing situation; then thought, 'No; let us mature some scheme first; he will help us better then, if he is able to help at all.' I leaned against the rail with folded arms, deeply considering. Helga kept her eyes upon me.

'We should not scheme as though Captain Bunting were a villain!' said I.

'He is a villain to his men!' she answered.

'He is no villain to us! What we do not like in him is his admiration of you. But this does not make a rascal of him!'

'He promised to transfer us to the first ship that passed!' said she.

'Shall you be well advised in acting a part?' I exclaimed. 'You are too frank, of too sweetly genuine a nature; you could not act; you could not deceive him!' said I, shaking my head.

The gratification my words gave her rose to her face in a little smile, that stayed for a moment like a light there.

'How frank and sweet I am I do not know,' said she artlessly; 'but I love your praise!'

'Madeira is yonder,' said I, nodding into the westward, 'some hundred odd miles distant, according to our friend's reckoning. If that be so, the Canaries must be within easy reach of two or three days, even at this dull pace. In fact, by to-morrow afternoon we could be having the Peak of Teneriffe blue in the heavens over the bow. We could not make the Captain believe, in that time, that we, who have been consumed with anxiety to return to England, have suddenly changed our mind and are willing to sail in his ship to wherever he may be bound. He would say to himself, "They want me to steer for Santa Cruz, where they will go ashore and leave me."'

'Yes, that is likely,' said the girl.

'We must not speculate and plan as though he were a villain,' I repeated. 'I believe the safe course will be to behave as though we did not doubt he will transfer us when the chance offers, and we must be ceaseless in our expression of anxiety to get home.'

'That will be genuine in us,' said Helga, 'and I would rather act so. He will soon discover,' added she, colouring, 'that he is merely increasing the expenses of the voyage by detaining us.'

'He is not a rascal,' said I; 'he means very honestly; he wishes to make you his wife.' She raised her hand. 'Admiration in him has nimble feet. I have heard of love at first sight, but have scarcely credited it till now.' Her eyes besought me to be still, but I continued, urged, I believe, by some little temper of jealousy, owing to the thought of this Captain being in love with her, which was making me feel that I was growing very fond of her too. 'But his ideas are those of an honourable pious man,' said I. 'He is a widower—his daughter leads a lonely life at home—he knows as much about you as he could find out by plying us both with questions. He is certainly not a handsome man, but——' Here I stopped short.

She gazed at me with an expression of alarm.

'Oh, Hugh!' she cried, with touching plaintiveness of air and voice, 'you will remain my friend!'

'What have I said or done to make you doubt it, Helga?'

'What would you counsel?' she continued. 'Do you intend to side with him?'

'God forbid!' said I hastily.

She turned to the sea to conceal her face.

'Helga,' said I softly, for there was no chance for further tenderness than speech would convey, with Abraham stumping the deck to windward and a pair of dusky eyes at the wheel often turned upon us, 'I am sorry to have uttered a syllable to vex you. How much I am your friend you would know if you could see into my heart.'

She looked at me quickly, with her eyes full of tears, but with a grateful smile too. I was about to speak.

'Hush!' she exclaimed, and walked right aft, raising her hand to her brow, as though she spied something on the horizon astern.

'A delightful day—quite tropical,' exclaimed the Captain, advancing from the poop ladder. 'What does Miss Nielsen see?'

'She is always searching for a sail,' said I.

'May I take it,' said he, 'that you have communicated to her what has passed between us?'

'Captain,' I said, 'you ask, and perhaps you expect too much. You have been a married man; you must therefore know the ropes, as the sailors say, better than I, who have not yet been in love. All that I can positively assure you is that Miss Nielsen is exceedingly anxious to return home with me to England.'

'It would be unreasonable in me to expect otherwise—for the present,' said he.

He left me and joined Helga, and I gathered, by the motions of his arms, that he was discoursing on the beauty of the morning. Presently he went below, and very shortly afterwards returned, bearing a little folding-chair and a cotton umbrella. He placed the chair near the skylight. Helga seated herself and took the umbrella from him, the shade of which she might find grateful, for the sun had now risen high in the heavens—there was heat in the light, with nothing in the wind to temper the rays of the luminary. The Captain offered me a cigar with a bland smile, lighted one himself, and reposed in a careless, flowing way upon the skylight close to Helga; his long whiskers stirred like smoke upon his waistcoat to the blowing of the wind, his loose trousers of blue serge rippled, his chins seemed to roll as though in motion down betwixt the points of his collar. Clearly his study in the direction of posture was animated by a theory of careless, youthful, sailorly elegance; yet never did nautical man so completely answer to one's notions of a West-End hairdresser.

He was studiously courteous, and excessively anxious to recommend himself. I could not discover that he was in the least degree embarrassed by the supposition that I had repeated his conversation to Helga, though her manner must have assured him that I had told her everything. He was shrewd enough to see, however, that she was in a mood to listen rather than to be talked to, and so in the main he addressed himself to me. He asked me many questions about my lifeboat experiences: particularly wished to know if I thought that my boat, which had been stove in endeavouring to rescue Miss Nielsen and her lamented father, would be replaced.

'Should a fund be raised,' he exclaimed, 'I beg that my name may not be omitted. My humble guinea is entirely at the service of the noble cause you represent. And what grand end may not a humble guinea be instrumental in promoting! It may help to rescue many wretched souls from the perdition that would otherwise await them were they to be drowned without having time to repent. This is lamentably true of sailors, Mr. Tregarthen. Scarcely a mariner perishes at sea who would not require many years of a devotional life to purge himself of his numerous vices. A humble guinea may also spare many children the misery of being fatherless, and it may shed sunshine upon humble homes by restoring husbands to their wives. You will kindly put me down for a humble guinea.'

I thanked him as though I supposed he was in earnest.

'You will never take charge of a lifeboat again, I hope,' said Helga.

'Why not? I like the work,' I answered.

'See what it has brought you to,' said she.

'Into enjoying the association and friendship of Miss Helga Nielsen!' exclaimed the Captain. 'Mr. Tregarthen will surely not regret that experience.'

'I feel that I am responsible for his being here, Captain Bunting,' said she, 'and I shall continue wretched till we are journeying to England.'

'I would gladly put my ship about and sail her home to oblige you,' exclaimed the Captain, 'but for one consideration: not the pecuniary loss that would follow—oh dear no!' he added, slowly shaking his head; 'it would too quickly sever me from a companionship I find myself happy in.'

She bit her lip, looking down with a face of dismay and chagrin, while he eyed her as though seeking for signs of gratification.

'The Canary Islands are within a short sail, I think, Captain,' said I.

'They are,' he responded.

'It would occasion no deviation, I think, for you to heave off some port there—call at Santa Cruz—and send us ashore in one of your excellent sharp-ended quarter-boats.'

'That would be giving me no time,' he answered without the least hesitation, and speaking and smiling in the politest, the most bland manner conceivable, 'to prevail upon you and Miss Nielsen to accompany me.'

'But to accompany you where, Captain?' cried I, warming up.

'To the Cape,' he answered.

'Ay, to the Cape,' said I; 'but I understood that you were to call there to discharge a small cargo and await orders.'

'You do not put it quite accurately,' said he, still oily to the last degree in his accent and expression. 'I own the greater proportion of this vessel, and my orders are my interests. When I have discharged this cargo I must look out for another.'

'Yes,' said I, 'and when you have got it, where is it going to carry you to?'

'Ah!' he exclaimed with a sigh, 'who can pierce the future? But who would pierce it? Depend upon it, young gentleman, that human blindness—I mean intellectual blindness——' he was proceeding; but I was in no humour to listen to a string of insipid, nasally pronounced commonplaces.

'The long and the short of it, Captain Bunting——' said I, finding an impulse in the soft but glowing eyes which Helga fixed upon me. But, before I could proceed, Abraham came from the little brass rail which protected the break of the poop.

'Beg pardon, sir,' said he, addressing the Captain. 'That there chap Nakier has arsted to be allowed to say a word along wi' ye.'

'Where is he, Wise?' inquired the Captain, smiling into the boatman's face.

'He's awaiting down on the quarter-deck, sir.'

'Call him.'

The 'boss' mounted the ladder. I was again impressed by the modest, the gentle air his handsome face wore. His fine liquid, dusky eyes glittered as he approached, but without in the least qualifying his docile expression. He pulled off his queer old soldier's cap, and stood looking an instant earnestly from me to Helga, before fastening his dark but brilliant gaze upon the Captain.

'What now, Nakier?'

'Dere's Goh Syn Koh says de men's dinner to-day is allee same as yesterday,' said the man.

'You mean pork and pease-soup?'

'Yaas, sah,' answered the fellow, nodding with an Eastern swiftness of gesture.

'Just so. Pork and pease-soup. You threw your allowance overboard yesterday. I have not ordered pork and pease-soup to be given to you two days running as a punishment!—oh dear no!' he went on with a greasy chuckle coming out, as it were, from the heart of his roll of chins. 'What! punish a crew by giving them plenty to eat? No, no! I simply intend that you and the rest of you shall know that I am captain of this ship, and that I must have my way!'

'Dat is proper,' exclaimed Nakier. 'No man ever say no to dat. But we no eat pork. We sooner eat dirt. We will not eat pease-soup; it is gravy of pork. We sooner drink tar.'

'Can you conceive such bigotry, such superstition, in men who are really, Miss Nielsen, not totally wanting in brains?' exclaimed the Captain, turning to Helga.

She looked away from him.

'Nakier,' he continued, 'you know, my good fellow, there must be a beginning. Have you ever tasted pork?'

'No, sah; it is against my religion!' cried the man vehemently.

'Your religion!' exclaimed the Captain. 'Alas, poor man! it is not religion—it is superstition of the most deplorable kind! and, since every captain stands as father to his crew, it is my duty, as your father for the time, to endeavour to win you, my children, for the time, to a knowledge of the truth!' He glanced askew at Helga, and proceeded: 'You will begin by eating each of you a mouthful of pork. I do not expect much—just one mouthful apiece to begin with. You may then follow on with a meal of salt-beef. The first step is everything. My idea is to deal with one superstition at a time. Why should pork be unfit for you? It is good for this lady; it is good for me; for this gentleman; for Wise there. Are we inferior to you, Nakier, that we should be willing to eat what you and my poor dark crew—dark in mind as in skin—profess to disdain?'

'We cannot eat pork,' said the man.

'Oh, I think so. You will try?'

'No, sah, no!' There was a sharp, wild gleam in his eyes as he pronounced these words, a look that desperately contradicted his face, and his gaze at the Captain was now a steadfast stare.

'I desire,' continued the Captain, very blandly, 'to get rid of your deplorable prejudices as I would extinguish a side of bacon—rasher by rasher.' This he said with another leer at Helga. 'I have some knowledge of your faith. You need but make up your mind to know that what I do I do in the highest interests of my crew, and then I shall have every hope of getting you to listen to me, and of transforming you all into thoughtful Christian men before we reach Cape Town.'

'You will give us beef to-day, sah?'

'I think not, and if you throw your allowance overboard you shall have pork again to-morrow.'

'We did not sign your articles for dis,' said the man, who spoke English with a good accent.

'The articles provide for certain food,' answered the Captain, 'and that food is served out to you in very good measure. You will try—you will try to eat this pork; and when I learn that you have everyone of you swallowed one mouthful, you will find me indulgent in other directions, and ready to proceed on the only course which can result in your salvation.'

'You will not give us beef to-day, sah?' said the man, shaking his head.

'Yes; but I must learn first that you have eaten of the pork. I will not insist upon the soup, but the pork you must eat!'

'No, sah!'

'You can go forward!'

'We signed for meat, sah: we cannot work on biscuit!'

'Meat you have, and excellent meat too! It is my business to make Christians of you. This little struggle is natural. You can go forward, I say!'

Helga, catching her breath as though to a sudden hysteric constriction of the throat, cried out, 'Captain, do not starve these men! Give them the food their religion permits them to eat!'

He looked at her for a moment or two in silence. It was hard to guess at his mind under that fixedly smiling countenance, but it seemed to me as though in those few moments of pause there was happening a really bitter conflict of thought in him.

'I know my duty!' he exclaimed. 'I know what my responsibilities are here: what is expected of me!' He reflected again. 'I shall have to render an account for my conduct and human weakness is not forgiven in those who know what is right, and who are in a position to maintain, enforce, and confirm the right.' He paused again, then saying softly to Helga, 'For your sake!' he turned to Nakier. 'This lady wishes that the crew shall have the food their black and wicked superstitions suffer them to eat. Be it so—for to-day. Let the cook go to Mr. Jones's cabin for the key of the harness-cask.'

Without a word, the man rounded upon his heel and went forward.

The Captain gazed at Helga while he pensively pulled his whiskers.

'It is just possible,' said he, 'that you may not be very intimately acquainted with the character of the religion I am endeavouring to correct in those poor dark fellow-creatures of mine.'

'I dare say they are very happy in their belief,' she answered.

He arched his eyebrows and spread his waistcoat, and had fetched a deep breath preparatory to delivering one of his fathoms of tedious commonplace, but his eye was at that instant taken by the clock under the skylight.

'Ha!' he cried, 'I must fetch my sextant; it is drawing on to noon. I will bring you an instrument, Miss Nielsen; we will shoot the sun together.'

'No, if you please,' she exclaimed.

He entreated a little, but her no was so resolutely pronounced that, contenting himself with a bland flourish of his hand, he went below.

'What is to be done?' whispered Helga. 'We shall not be able to induce him to land us at Santa Cruz. Is he mad, do you think?'

'No more than I am,' said I. 'One vocation is not enough for the fellow. There are others like him in my country of Great Britain. What a sea-captain, to be sure! How well he talks—I mean for a sea-captain! He has a good command of words. I wager he has made more than one rafter echo in his day. And he is sincere too. I saw the struggle in him when you asked that the men should have their bit of beef.'

'How am I to make him understand,' said she, 'that nothing can follow his keeping us here?'

'At all events,' I exclaimed, 'we can do nothing until we sight a ship heading for home.'

'That is true,' she answered.

'We came aboard yesterday,' I continued, 'since when nothing has been sighted, therefore, be the disposition of the man what it will, he could not down to this moment have put us in the way of getting home. But here he comes.'

He rose through the companion hatch, with a sextant in his hand, and, stepping over to the weather side of the deck, fell to ogling the sun that flamed over the weather-bow.