"Compass," he murmured—"Compass needle—points—points...."
"Well," said the examiner, "why does it always point to the north?"
And suddenly Dirrik's face lit up with a flash of blessed inspiration:
"Why," he said cheerfully, "I suppose it's just a habit it's got."
This time the examiner could not help laughing, and the censors themselves seemed to thaw a little.
"H'm," said the examiner. "Yes ... well, and suppose your compass needle happened to forget that little habit it's got, as may happen, for instance, when a vessel's loaded with iron—what would you do?" Evidently he was in a good humour now.
"Sail by the sun and the watch," answered Dirrik promptly. He was wide awake now, and drew out as he spoke a big silver watch with a double case.
"I've sailed by this fellow here from the Newfoundland Bank to Barrow in twelve days—it was with the barque Himalaya, of Holmestrand."
"When was that?" asked the examiner.
"Seven years ago come Christmas it was."