“An excellent place,” continued the captain, paying no attention to the words of his companion, “a position well sheltered, where the craft can lie while we fill her with oil—secure from every danger—”
“Except that of ice,” doggedly persisted the mate.
“Secure from every danger,” repeated the captain, turning sharply toward his first officer.
“Oh! I am so glad!” cried Alice, clapping her white hands with an enthusiasm natural to a girl of seventeen. “It is such a wild, beautiful place. And, on pleasant days, I can bring my sewing on deck. It will be very nice sitting here and looking up now and then at those great towering cliffs that rise so far above the tops of our mast-heads.”
“Until the ice comes,” said Briggs.
“Why, Mr. Briggs, what do you mean?” said Alice, turning toward the first officer with an expression of alarm upon her face; “this is the third time I’ve heard you speak about the ice. Is there really danger to be apprehended from it?”
“Ay, ay, Miss Alice, plenty of it,” bluntly responded the mate, “and unless—”
“You must not mind him, niece,” interrupted the captain. “He fancies there is danger from that floe that you see off the quarter; but, you may believe me, when I tell you, that it will have drifted past us before night.”
“There are undercurrents that’ll bring it upon us before the morning,” persisted Briggs. “This isn’t the first time I’ve sailed in these waters.”
“Oh, uncle!” said the young girl, placing both hands upon the captain’s shoulder; “the mate is an old sailer of this sea, while this is the first time that you have ventured in this quarter. I think you had better take his advice.”