"I am coming, Mr. Becket. Well, it is good-by, and God bless you, Miss Margaret, and fair winds to you, and clear skies," said Arthur, as he clasped her hand for a moment. Then he followed Mr. Becket on deck. David ran after them, and as he helped his friend overside, Arthur asked:
"Is it go or stay, with you? The longer you hang in the wind without making up your mind, the worse it will be."
"It's the hardest thing I ever had to decide," replied David. "I sort of went ahead blind, and didn't know how much this was going to mean to me."
"Father and mother and I have begun to find out that you haven't been thinking of yourself at all, from start to finish," cried Arthur. "Maybe that is why all your friends like you."
This unexpected compliment took David aback, and all he could think of to say in parting was:
"You'll hear from me by to-morrow. It's all a game of figuring out what is right to do."
David watched the boat move shoreward, until it dodged behind a string of barges, and then he returned to Margaret in the cabin. She made a gallant effort to face the issue which they had argued over and over again.
"It all happened just right that Mr. Becket was willing to come as mate," she began, "but oh, the whole beautiful plan seems so empty without you, Davy. Why can't you sail with us? Grandfather says he will make you third mate at the end of this voyage. And you will be just drudging along in the Roanoke for years and years, before you can get that far."
"It is different with Mr. Becket," replied David, with a sigh. "He is almost fifty years old, and he needs a position. Besides, he stands a fine chance to be master of the Sea Witch when Captain John retires. But I am just beginning, and I belong in steam."
Margaret was unconvinced, as she looked up at him with affectionate pride.