"If you please, you did--going up the stairs. I have blue marks as the
result."

The chatter ran on for a while in a similar strain. Frederick, without
betraying it, was on the alert for every word she uttered, noted every
play of feature, watched for her glances, for the rise and fall of her
lashes. He jealously studied the others, too, and caught every
expression, every movement, every glance that was meant for her. He even
noticed how Max Pander, the handsome cabin-boy, still standing at his
post, held his eyes fixed upon her, a broad smile on his lips.

Ingigerd's pleasure in receiving the homage of three men and being the
centre of general interest was evident. She plucked at her little doll
and her odd, checked jacket, and gave herself up to coquettish whimsies.
Her affected voice filled Frederick with the delight of a long, cool
drink to a thirsty man. At the same time, his whole being was inflamed
with jealousy. The first mate, Von Halm, a magnificent young man of
twenty-eight, a perfect tower of a man, joined the group and was favoured
by Ingigerd with looks and pointed remarks, which indicated to her
admirers that this weather-tanned officer was not an object of
indifference to her.

"How many miles, Lieutenant, since we left the Needles?" asked
Achleitner, who was pale and evidently chilly.

"We're making better time now," Von Halm replied; "but for the last
twenty-two or twenty-three hours, we haven't made more than two hundred
miles."