BREEZE’S WELCOME TO THE “SAGA.”
While he was changing his clothes in the tiny stateroom which he was told he might occupy as long as he remained on board the Saga, the steward spread a table with the remains of the cabin dinner, which, as it was now about half-past eight in the evening, had been just finished when the dory was picked up.
As the steward announced that his dinner was ready, and asked him if he were not hungry, Breeze was reminded of old Mateo, and his cheery “Vell, Breeze, ma boy, you hongry, eh?” It gave him a homesick feeling, and he thought how gladly he would, if he could, exchange his present luxurious surroundings, in the company of strangers, for the forecastle of the Fish-hawk, and its narrow mess-table surrounded by the faces of his friends. There is nothing more true than that the humblest abode in which are a person’s own people is a happier place to him than a palace without them.
Having eaten nothing since very early that morning, Breeze did not allow these thoughts to interfere in the slightest with his enjoyment of the meal set before him. To him it seemed one of the most sumptuous dinners he had ever sat down to, though the cabin steward apologized for it, saying that their cook had unfortunately fallen overboard and been drowned while they were cruising off Jan-Mayen, and since then they had been obliged to get along as best they could.
It was wonderful to note how differently this man treated Breeze since he had appeared in Lord Seabright’s clothes. He had been kind before, but now he was respectful. All of which goes to show that, while clothes do not make the man, they have a great deal to do with the estimation in which he is held by strangers. Consequently it is very important that everybody, boys as well as men, should always dress as neatly and becomingly as their circumstances will allow.
Lord Seabright always commanded his own yacht, in which he took great pride, and which he was capable of managing in every detail. Whatever this young man undertook he performed thoroughly, and at present he found his chief pleasure in yachting, a pursuit in which his great wealth enabled him to indulge without a thought of the expense attending it. This was the Saga’s first cruise, and it had been extended as far northward as the wild land of Jan-Mayen, which is about two hundred miles nearer the north pole than Iceland. It is also a volcanic bubble of the earth’s crust, though much smaller and even more desolate than its neighbor on the south.
Since leaving these, and reaching the coast of Iceland, the Saga had penetrated several of the deep northern fiords, and Lord Seabright had visited a number of the fire Jökulls, boiling sulphur springs, and other interesting objects and places of that part of the island. Now the yacht was on her way to Reykjavik, from which an inland expedition was to be made to the famous geysers.
After Breeze had finished his dinner the steward informed him that his lordship would like to have a few words with him in the cabin.
The cabin, or main saloon, was located as nearly as possible in the centre of the yacht, though forward of the engines and boilers. As Breeze was ushered into it, he was for a moment bewildered by its elegance and its luxurious appointments, which far surpassed anything he had ever dreamed of. Mirrors, carvings, silken curtains, rich furniture, velvet carpets, a sideboard glistening with silver, a small upright piano built into the oak wainscoting, an open fireplace with a chimney-piece of carved oak above it, a small library of choice books, and many other beautiful things, of which he did not know the names or uses, greeted the boy’s astonished gaze. Although it was still daylight outside, the sky was so overcast that the saloon would have been in comparative darkness had it not been for the floods of light coming from four opaque globes set into the ceiling and softening the electric flames that flashed behind them.