"You will find great opportunities there."

"But how about the girl who is to sour the syrup of my being and
make it ferment?"

"Oh, she may appear at any moment; but, joking aside, you had
better think over what I have said." She left him with an
admonitory shake of her head.

The SANTA CRUZ was now rapidly drawing out of the cold northern
winter and into a tropic warmth. Already the raw chill of higher
latitudes was giving way to a balmy, spring-like temperature,
while the glittering sunshine transformed the sea into a lively,
gleaming expanse of sapphire. The nights were perfect, the days
divine. The passengers responded as if to a magic draught, and
Kirk found his blood filled with a new vigor.

A brief sight of Columbus' Landfall served to break the monotony;
then followed a swift flight past low, tropical islands ringed
with coral sand, upon which broke a lazy, milk-white surf. Through
the glasses villages were spied, backed by palm groves and guarded
by tall sentinel lighthouses; but the Santa Cruz pushed steadily
southward, her decks as level as a dancing floor, the melancholy
voice of her bell tolling the leagues as they slipped past. The
eastern tongue of Cuba rose out of the horizon, then dropped
astern, and the gentle trades began to fan the travellers. Now
that they were in the Caribbean, schools of flying fish whisked
out from under the ship's prow, and away, like tiny silver-
sheathed arrows. New constellations rose into the evening sky. It