"And Williams? I am to submit to his insolence?"

She stopped and turned, and the smile faded.

"The next time," she said, "you are to drop him!"

But during the remainder of the day she neither spoke to me nor
looked, as far as I could tell, in my direction. She flirted openly
with Vail, rather, I thought, to the discomfort of Mrs. Johns, who
had appropriated him to herself--sang to him in the cabin, and in
the long hour before dinner, when the others were dressing, walked
the deck with him, talking earnestly. They looked well together,
and I believe he was in love with her. Poor Vail!

Turner had gone below, grimly good-humored, to dress for dinner; and
I went aft to chat, as I often did, with the steersman. On this
occasion it happened to be Charlie Jones. Jones was not his name,
so far as I know. It was some inordinately long and different
German inheritance, and so, with the facility of the average crew,
he had been called Jones. He was a benevolent little man, highly
religious, and something of a philosopher. And because I could
understand German, and even essay it in a limited way, he was fond
of me.

"Seta du dick," he said, and moved over so that I could sit on the
grating on which he stood. "The sky is fine to-night. Wunderschon!"

"It always looks good to me," I observed, filling my pipe and
passing my tobacco-bag to him. "I may have my doubts now and then
on land, Charlie; but here, between the sky and the sea, I'm a