“No, thanks.”
“Nothing to eat, or drink?”
“Nothing. I shall be ready for a square meal when I am able to come below—not before.”
Christobal smiled. Though he was a brave man, he thought such persistent optimism was out of place. Nevertheless, he could emulate Courtenay’s coolness.
“Let me know when you are ready. I am an excellent cook,” he said.
Then the captain of the Kansas resumed his smoking and humming, with occasional glances at the clock, and the compass, and the barometer. At two o’clock he felt the ship slipping from under the wheel. The compass showed that she was heading a couple of points eastward. He helped her, and telephoned instantly to Walker:
“Go forward and try if you can make out anything. Report to me here.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” came the reply, and anon Walker appeared.
“It’s main thick ahead, sir, but I think we-aw passin’ an island to port,” said he.
“I thought so. You had better remain here, Walker. We have not long to wait now for the dawn, and four eyes are better than two.”