'They are poor men,' said Helga, 'and do not know how to be grateful for the loss of perhaps very nearly all that they have in the world.'
He looked at her smilingly, with a glance down her figure, and exclaimed, 'I am quite sure that when your poor dear father's barque sank you did not resent the decree of Heaven.'
Helga held her peace.
'Was she insured, madam?' he asked.
She answered briefly 'Yes,' not choosing to enter into explanations.
He surveyed her thoughtfully, with his head on one side; then, addressing me, he said:
'The man Abraham, now. I take it he was skipper of the lugger?'
'Yes, he was so,' said I.
'Is it possible that he knows anything of navigation?'
'I fear his acquaintance with that art is small. He can blunder upon the latitude with the aid of an old quadrant, but he leaves his longitude to dead reckoning.'