"What pantomimists call a 'quick change'"—said Mr. Harland, with a laugh—"The show is over for to-night. Let us turn in. To-morrow morning we'll try and make acquaintance with the stranger, and find out for Captain Derrick's comfort how she managed to sail without wind!"
We bade each other good-night then, and descended to our several quarters.
When I found myself alone in the luxurious state-room 'suite' allotted to me, the first thing I did was to open one of the port-holes and listen to the music which still came superbly built,—sailing vessels are always more elegant than steam, though not half so useful. I expect she'll lie becalmed here for a day or two."
"It's a wonder she's got round here at all,"—said the captain—"There wasn't any wind to bring her."
Mr. Harland looked amused.
"There must have been SOME wind, Derrick,"—he answered—"Only it wasn't boisterous enough for a hardy salt like you to feel it."
"There wasn't a breath,"—declared Derrick, firmly—"Not enough to blow a baby's curl."
"Then how did she get here?" asked Dr. Brayle.
Captain Derrick's lifted eyebrows expressed his inability to solve the enigma.
"I said just now if there was a wind it wasn't a wind belonging to this world—"