“Lor, you should put your nose into our quarters, miss!” remarked the quartermaster. “No draughts up there, I promise you! We wouldn’t sleep easy with all this cold air a-blowin’ in.” He looked at Norah’s distressed face. “Well, if you give me your word there won’t be any more light, miss, I might chance it.”
“Not if I have fifty teeth aching—I promise!” said Norah gratefully. “Thank you ever so much, quartermaster.”
“Don’t mention it,” said the sailor, affably. “Good-night miss—or rather good-morning! It ain’t far off dawn.” He tramped out, leaving the cabin redolent of oilskins and hot lantern.
Jim, a few hours later, was indignant.
“I never heard such bosh,” he said, warmly. “Light—why, that little torch couldn’t be seen a dozen yards away! I wonder who was the officer of the watch. I’d like to speak to him.”
“Oh, don’t bother, Jimmy!” said Norah. “It must show more than we thought, or they couldn’t have seen it, that’s clear. And for all we know, I may never want to use it again. If I do, I’ll rig up a dark serge skirt over the port-hole, and I’m sure no one could see a chink of light then.
“Well, it’s rather a bore to have to do that in the dark, but I suppose there’s no help for it,” said Jim. “And there is really nothing to be gained by speaking to headquarters, I suppose; if the light shows, it mustn’t be permitted, and that’s all about it. I’m glad the quartermaster was decent over it, anyhow.”
“Oh, he was a dear! he might have shut the port-hole, and he didn’t. But I’m sorry the officer should think I disobeyed orders,” added Norah.
“I’ll fix that up with him, if I get a chance,” said her brother. “And don’t you go making a habit of getting toothache and lying awake at night; it isn’t good for you.” He gave her hair a friendly tweak. “Come up on deck; Wally will be looking for us.”
It occurred to Norah two nights later, that she was in a fair way to disobeying at least part of Jim’s injunction. Toothache had not visited her, certainly; but she had a most unusual fit of wakefulness. It was a still night, mild and close; scarcely any breeze came through her port-hole. Early in the night she had found the grey ’possum rug too hot and had cast it off; then a blanket followed suit; and still she was hot and restless, and the little bunk seemed suddenly narrow and uncomfortable.