"--What, has this thing appeared again, to-night?"

Hamlet.


"The face of man is the log-book of his thoughts, and Captain Ludlow's
seems agreeable," observed a voice, that came from one, who was not far
from the commander of the Coquette, while the latter was still enacting
the pantomime described in the close of the preceding chapter.

"Who speaks of thoughts and log-books or who dares to pry into my
movements?" demanded the young sailor, fiercely.

"One who has trifled with the first and scribbled in the last too often,
not to know how to meet a squall, whether it be seen in the clouds or only
on the face of man. As for looking into your movements, Captain Ludlow, I
have watched too many big ships in my time, to turn aside at each light
cruiser that happens to cross my course. I hope, Sir, you have an answer;
every hail has its right to a civil reply."

Ludlow could scarce believe his senses, when, on turning to face the
intruder, he saw himself confronted by the audacious eye and calm mien of
the mariner who had, once before that morning, braved his resentment.
Curbing his indignation, however, the young man endeavored to emulate the
coolness which, notwithstanding his inferior condition, imparted to the
air of the other something that was imposing, if it were not absolutely
authoritative. Perhaps the singularity of the adventure aided in effecting
an object, that was a little difficult of attainment in one accustomed to
receive so much habitual deference from most of those who made the sea
their home. Swallowing his resentment, the young commander answered--