and irregular familiarity, now slunk away again.

The passenger was a shrewd, exact, rectangular-looking man, who had
evidently never entirely succumbed to the freedom of the sea either in
his appearance or habits. He had not even his sea legs yet; and as the
barque, with the full swell of the Pacific now on her weather bow, was
plunging uncomfortably, he was fain to cling to the stanchions. This did
not, however, prevent him from noticing the change in her position, and
captiously resenting it.

"Look here--you; I say! What have we turned round for? We're going away
from the land! Ain't we going on to Mazatlan?"

The two men at the wheel looked silently forward, with that exasperating
unconcern of any landsman's interest peculiar to marine officials. The
passenger turned impatiently to the third mate.

"But this ain't right, you know. It was understood that we were going
into Mazatlan. I've got business there."

"My orders, sir," said the mate curtly, turning away.

The practical passenger had been observant enough of sea-going rules to
recognize that this reason was final, and that it was equally futile to
demand an interview with the captain when that gentleman was not visibly
on duty. He turned angrily to the cabin again.

"You look disturbed, my dear Banks. I trust you haven't slept badly,"
said a very gentle voice from the quarter-rail near him; "or, perhaps,
the ship's going about has upset you. It's a little rougher on this