'You would not think so if you had been stuck here for ten days on a raft.'
'Well,' exclaimed the girl, heaving a sigh, 'the Equator is not very far off now, and then we shall turn and go home.'
'I hope that our forefoot will cut the Line by the 25th,' answered Mr. Vanderholt. 'We shall be home in February, brown, and in the best of spirits.'
'And George will have started—will be coming.'
They talked for a little while about this gentleman. It was ten o'clock before they quitted the deck. A man struck four bells on the forecastle. Immediately a figure arose from the deep shadow cast by the deck-house on the planks, and went aft to relieve the helm. Captain Glew stood on the yacht's quarter, and was as visible in the moonshine as though the bright dawn had broken. There was a muttering about the course at the helm, and then the man who had been relieved took a step or two forward, looking at the captain.
'What are you staring at?' said Glew.
The man, continuing to walk but slowly, persisted in staring, so that his head revolved.
'What are you staring at?' repeated Glew, in a soft but threatening voice.
The skylight and companion-way were wide open; he had no wish that his note of temper should penetrate.