"Yes."
The officer seated himself near his table on which were outspread charts and maps. About the table hung a framed picture of the captain's wife and child, a miniature of which he carried in his breast pocket.
"In the first place," began Captain Brown, "I want you to keep this which I tell you secret until I deem it wise to be published. I can trust you for that?"
"Certainly."
Always in the company of the passengers, Captain Brown's bearing was one of assurance. He smiled readily. But now his face was serious, and Chester saw lines of care and anxiety in it.
"I am sorry that I ever suggested to you and your friends—and my dear friends they are too," continued the captain, "that you take this voyage with me, for if anything should happen, I should never forgive myself. However, there is no occasion for serious alarm—yet."
"What is the matter, captain?"
"I have been deceived regarding the condition of this ship. I was made to understand that she was perfectly sea-worthy—this is my first trip with her—but I now learn that the boilers are in a bad state and the pumps are hardly in a working condition. There is—already a small leak where it is nearly impossible to be reached. We are holding our own very well, and we can jog along in this way for some time, so there is no immediate danger."
Chester experienced a sinking at the heart. From the many questions which thronged into his mind, he put this:
"When might there be danger?"