"It is likely to be a rough passage," said Breitmann experimentally.
"He doesn't want me to go." Fitzgerald stroked his chin slyly.
"We have crossed the Atlantic twice in the yacht," Laura affirmed with a bit of pride; "once in March too, and a heavy sea half the way."
"Enter me as cabin-boy or supercargo," said Fitzgerald. "If you don't you'll find a stowaway before two days out."
"That's the spirit." The admiral drew strongly on his cigar. He had really never been so excited since his first sea-engagement. "And it comes in so pat, Laura. We were going away in a month anyway. Now we can notify the guests that we've cut down the time two weeks. I tell you what it is, this will be the greatest cruise I ever laid a course to."
"Guests?" murmured Fitzgerald, unconsciously poaching on Breitmann's thought.
"Yes. But they shall know nothing till we land in Corsica. And in a day or two this fellow would have laid hands on these things and we'd never been any the wiser."
"And may we not expect more of him?" said Breitmann.
"Small good it will do him."
"Corsica," repeated the girl dreamily.