When the maid returned, Miss Wellington smiled and nodded to Armitage, who led the way into the cabin and to the main stairway and thence down into the hold.
The steward was a bustling, voluble little man with well-rounded proportions and a walrus-like mustache. As Armitage and his two companions entered, he was engaged in removing a coffee-stained table cover—the crew had finished breakfasting—which he replaced with a spotless red-and-white checkered cloth.
"Steward," said Armitage, falling unconsciously into the crisp voice of command, "get some coffee and biscuits for this lady and her maid, please."
"Yes, sir," the steward smiled affably, "certainly, sir. They 're fine this morning—the biscuits, I mean. Fine!"
"Very good," said Armitage. He pulled two chairs to the table and was leaving the room when the girl looked over her shoulder.
"Are n't you going to join us?" she asked.
"Well," said Armitage smiling, "I was going to breakfast in the galley. It is so warm by the range, you know."
"Nonsense! Don't mind us. It's rather novel breakfasting with one's maid—and a stranger."
She said this in rather an absent manner, as though the fact to which she called attention were almost too obvious for remark. Certainly it was not said in any way to impel Armitage to introduce himself, and he had no wish to take advantage of a lame opportunity.
"Yes," he said, seating himself at one end of the table; "it impresses me that way, too."