“You needn’t pretend that you cannot sail alone,” said von Brüning.
“It’s much more fun with two; I think I shall wire for another friend. Meanwhile, I should like to see Memmert.”
“That’s only an excuse, I’m afraid,” said I.
“I want to shoot ducks too,” pursued Davies, reddening. “I always have wanted to; and you promised to help in that, Commander.”
“You can’t get out of it now,” I laughed.
“Certainly not,” said he, unmoved; “but, honestly, I should advise Herr Davies, if he is ever going to get home this season, to make the best of this fine weather.”
“It’s too fine,” said Davies; “I prefer wind. If I cannot get a friend I think I shall stop cruising, leave the yacht here, and come back for her next year.
There was some mute telegraphy between the allies.
“You can leave her in my charge,” said Dollmann, “and start with your friend to-morrow.”
“Thanks; but there is no hurry,” said Davies, growing redder than ever. “I like Norderney—and we might have another sail in your dinghy, Fräulein,” he blurted out.