It was an ungracious order, but Mr. Dykes had nothing for it but to leave the bridge and acquaint Miss Fletcher with the Captain's instructions.
"The skipper's compliments," he said, "and would you attend to the wounded when they're taken down to the hold?"
The girl glanced at him sharply; probably the hesitating manner in which he spoke roused her suspicions.
"That's not what he said?" she challenged.
"Well, I guess it's as near as no matter."
"You mean he has ordered me off the deck?"
The mate made a deprecatory gesture and turned away. For a moment the girl hesitated, half inclined to defy the Captain's orders and remain on deck. Then the futility of any such act of defiance occurred to her, and she returned to her cabin, locking the door behind her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot with rage, "I hate him!"
She continued to hate him ardently for a while, and then, as this gave little real satisfaction, she opened her cabin door and peered out just as Smith was passing.
"Are you going on to the bridge?" she asked.