Old Captain Mountz was pacing up and down the deck with the firm tread of a man who felt himself on solid ground.
"Good-morning, captain! A pleasant change this," was Ishmael's greeting.
"Oh, aye, yes! for as long as it will last," was the dampening reply.
"Why, you don't think the wind will rise again, do you?"
"Don't I? I tell you before many hours we shall have a strong sou'wester, that will do its best to drive us ashore on these Banks," was the discouraging answer.
But by this time Ishmael had grown to understand the old sailor, and to know that he generally talked by the "rules of contrary"; for whereas he would not permit the late gale to be anything more than a "capful of wind," he now declared the fine weather to be nothing less than the forerunner of a hurricane.
So Ishmael did not feel any very serious misgivings, but went downstairs to breakfast with a good appetite.
Here another pleasant surprise greeted him: Judge Merlin and Mr. Brudenell, recovered from their seasickness, were both at breakfast; and notwithstanding the weight of care that oppressed their hearts they were both, from the mere physical reaction from depressing illness, in excellent spirits.
They arose to greet their young friend.
"How do you do, how do you do, Ishmael?" began Judge Merlin, heartily shaking his hand. "I really suppose now that you think I owe you an apology? But the fact is you owe me one. Didn't you know better than to intrude on the privacy of a seasick man? Didn't you know that a victim hates the sight of one who is not a victim? And that a seasick man or a rabid dog is better let alone, eh?"