"Now we must go down and meet your boat," said Verna. "See, there
it is, coming in--though I still think it was cheeky of you to
tell them to land uninvited."

"Oh, let them wait!" I said.

"No, no, we must go and meet them," said Verna, "and I'm going to
ask that glorious old fox with the yellow beard whether it's all
true or not!"

"You can't believe it yet?" I said.

"You've only yourself to thank for it," she said. "I got used to
you as one thing--and here you are, under my eyes, turning out
another."

I could not resist saying "Fancy!" though she did not seem to
perceive any humour in my exclamation of it, and took it as a
matter of course. Besides, she had risen now, and bade me follow
her down the stairs.

It was really fine to see the men salute me as we walked down to
the boat, and the darkies' teeth shining at the sight of me (for
I'm a believer in the coloured sailor) and old Neilsen grinning
respectfully in the stern-sheets.

"Neilsen," I said, "tell this young lady my name!"

"Mr. ffrench, sir," he answered, considerably astonished at the
question.