"You're aboard your own bark—the Daphne. She's yours by the Lord Harry and I'd like to see anybody take her away from you. We'll be up with the Gate in another three hours. I'm having her mudhooks shackled up now. Along——"
A renewing of the chanty interrupted him.
"Mr. Yates! Mr. Yates!" called Winterton.
A young ensign appeared in the doorway.
"Tell 'em to cut that out!"
Paul shook his head.
"Let 'em go on," he asked. "Ask that fellow with the baritone voice to find a job and give us 'The Maid of Amsterdam.'"
"Anything his heart desires, Mr. Yates."
Yates stepped inside with his hand extended toward Paul.
"I just want to shake hands with you and say I'm proud to do it."