“Well, yes, she is bound to be, in the natural course of events, because, as you say, she has faster sailing qualities, and all that; but——”
“Ah!” interrupted Mayne Brace, with a smile, and another hearty pull at his coffee; “we must not think of the ‘might be,’ or the ‘may be.’ Else we’d go on thinking and get nervous, and end in believing, that because we did not meet the Sea Elephant somewhere to the east of Dougherty Islands, she has been taken aback in a squall, and gone down stern foremost, with all hands. Or that she had, at the very least, broken her screw.”
“Steward!”
“Ay, ay, sir!”
“Put more coals on the fire.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And just replenish our cups of coffee. Fresh ground, isn’t it?”
“That it be, sir.
“Dumpty always roasts it himself, and I grinds it. A main good hand Dumpty is, sir, at roasting coffee. A little morsel of lard in the bottom of the pan to keep the beans from burning, a good clear fire, and keep them moving and moving; and there you be, sir.”
“Steward!”