Night came on, the stars appeared, and Hein's squealer gave forth music. That was the life, a sailor's life.
On the following day I worked. I could not get along with the mate. He thought me too independent, and tattled on me to the captain, who restrained himself and had patience with me, since he did not want to lose so experienced a sailor. At night Hein's laundress came again, and the squealer sounded long and merrily.
On the third day my friend the shipowner came to the boat to get me. I managed to say to him without being observed.
"Don't give me away. Have the captain meet us for dinner at the hotel to-night."
The shipowner invited the captain, who accepted with alacrity.
That night at the Atlantic Hotel I dressed myself in full uniform, and joined the shipowner and the captain in the dining room. In such a glittering place, the captain was bashful.
"Captain Erdmann of the Hannah—Lieutenant Commander Count von Luckner."
Erdmann eyed me curiously and then looked down for a long time, turning his wineglass around in his hand. Evidently he thought he saw a certain resemblance. In a little while, I stepped out.
"Is he a count?" the captain asked the shipowner.
"Yes."