"Take my tip," he said earnestly, "This is a bad climate to go hungry in. You'd 'ave a touch of the sun in less'n no time. Just go below, an' force yerself to nibble a bit. It'll do you good, an' I don't mind keepin' watch another spell."
Royson obeyed in silence. His friend's kindliness supplied an unconscious but necessary tonic to his system. Obviously, the second mate of the Aphrodite had no business to trouble his head about the symbolism of rings worn by Miss Irene Fenshawe. Yet he wished he knew which was the engagement finger.
Shortly before noon Captain Stump came on deck to take the sun. This was a semi-religious rite with Stump. Though the contours of the coast drawn along two sides of the Admiralty chart rendered a solar observation quite needless within sight of land, he proceeded to ascertain the yacht's position according to the formula, or, at any rate, according to such portion of it as applied to his rule-of-thumb calculations. Having pricked the chart and written the log, Stump bit the end off a cigar. He was ready for a gossip with Royson.
"You won't find life quite so lively at Aden as at Massowah," he said.
"We are bound for Aden, then?"
"Where did you think we was headin' for? Melbourne?"
"Well, sir, if I gave any thought to it I inclined more to the belief that we were making for our original destination."
"An' where was that?"
"A bay somewhere south of us, not far from Perin."
"Have you heard anything fresh?" asked Stamp quickly.