As the saloon door was thrown open by the cabin steward, and Breeze was confronted by all this blaze of light and color, he hesitated for a moment, and felt almost afraid to enter. Then the Yankee independence to which he had been educated asserted itself, and he stepped inside the gorgeous apartment.
Lord Seabright did not at first recognize the handsome, gentlemanly appearing fellow who, clad in a becoming blue yachting suit, now stood before him, and for an instant looked inquiringly at him. He had risen from the easy-chair in which he had been seated, and the moment he realized who the visitor was, he stepped forward, instinctively held out his hand to Breeze, and bade him welcome to the Saga. Then he introduced him to the only other occupant of the saloon, a tired-looking young man, who lay upon a lounge smoking.
"Without rising, this gentleman greeted Breeze with, “Ah, pleased awfully! Have a weed?”
“No, I thank you,” replied Breeze, who could hardly help laughing. “I have not learned to smoke yet.”
“Ah, good boy! Advise you not to. Beastly habit. Rough on the constitution.”
“Oh, Whyte! Whyte!” laughed his friend. “If you would only practise the half of what you preach, what a fine fellow you would become!”
“Yes,” replied the other, “I fancy my theory is very nearly perfect, but it is really too much of a grind, don’t you know, to put it into practice. I’d rather let some other chap do that.”
This was a fair example of Mr. Whyte Whymper’s character. He was good-natured, easy-going, blessed with most excellent mental and physical qualities, but was too indolent to improve either the one or the other. He was not exactly the companion the owner of the Saga would have chosen for this northern trip, but several other friends had disappointed him at the last moment, and he was obliged to make the best of the one who was at liberty, and willing to accompany him.
“Well, McCloud,” said Lord Seabright, after a few moments’ pleasant chat that served to make the boy feel quite at home, “sit down and tell us how you and your black friend happened to get lost, and to be drifting about on the open sea in that queer-looking craft of yours. It strikes me that you were in a pretty nasty position, and I’m curious to hear about it.”
Although Breeze confined his story to his experiences while on the Fish-hawk, and after leaving her, his hearers were much interested in what he had to tell them. They seemed to consider it a very plucky thing for a small schooner, such as he described, to cross the Atlantic for the purpose of fishing in those stormy northern seas, and they asked him many questions in regard to the American methods of fishing.