"The fact is that we were afraid you might complain of ennui, so we have stirred up a little excitement," explained Sam.
"Truly, Mr. Blythe?"
My friend looked at me appealingly and I came to the rescue.
"Sailors are a queer lot. They often get notions that have to be knocked out of them. We'll try not to disturb you while we do the hammering, Miss Berry."
A faint color washed back into her face.
"Oh, I hope you are right. It would be dreadful if——" she interrupted herself to take a more cheerful view. "But I am sure Mr. Mott is right. He has been on the seas a great many years more than you two. He ought to know best, oughtn't he?"
"Certainly," I conceded. "And I hope he does."
"Besides, Captain Bothwell is such a gentleman. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything so dreadful. I wish I could talk to him. He was always so reasonable with me, though Evie and he couldn't get along."
I concealed my smile at the thought of Miss Berry converting him.
The trumpet call to dinner diverted our thoughts. I dropped into my room to wash before dinner, with the surprising result that I lost the meal.