He thrust his plate away and shifted sidewise in his chair. "I 'uz just wonderin'," he pursued, picking his teeth meditatively with a pen-knife, "'ow they feeds you in them as-ylums. 'Avin' never been inside one, myself, it's on'y natural I'd be cur'us.... There was one of them institootions near where I was borned—Birming'am, that is. I used to see the loonies playin' in the grounds. I remember just as well!... One of 'em and me struck up quite an acquaintance—"
"Naturally he'd take to you on sight."
"Ow? Strynge 'ow we 'it it off, eigh?... You myke me think of 'im. Young chap, 'e was, the livin' spi't-'n-himage of you. It don't happen, does it, you're the same man?"
"Oh, go to the devil!"
"Naughty!" said the captain serenely, wagging a reproving forefinger. "Bad, naughty word. You'll be sorry when you find out wot it means.... Only 'e was allus plannin' to run awye and drownd 'is-self."...
He wore the joke threadbare, even to his own taste, and in the end got heavily to his feet, starting for the companionway. "Land you this arternoon," he remarked casually, "come three o'clock or thereabahts. Per'aps later. I don't know, though, as I 'ad ought to let you loose."
Kirkwood made no answer. Chuckling, Stryker went on deck.
In the course of an hour the American followed him.
Wind and sea alike had gone down wonderfully since daybreak—a circumstance undoubtedly in great part due to the fact that they had won in under the lee of the mainland and were traversing shallower waters. On either hand, like mist upon the horizon, lay a streak of gray, a shade darker than the gray of the waters. The Alethea was within the wide jaws of the Western Scheldt. As for the wind, it had shifted several points to the northwards; the brigantine had it abeam and was lying down to it and racing to port with slanting deck and singing cordage.
Kirkwood approached the captain, who, acting as his own pilot, was standing by the wheel and barking sharp orders to the helmsman.