"I am not at all sorry," Harry said as he went below with the captain. "I
ate a good breakfast before I started at half-past six, and I went below
and had a biscuit and bottle of beer at eleven, but I feel as hungry as a
hunter now. There is nothing like a sea appetite. I have been nearly two
years on shore, and I never enjoyed a meal as I do at sea."

The crew had been busy ever since they left the dock, and the deck had now
been scrubbed and made tidy, and presented a very different appearance
from that which met Harry's eye as he came on board.

Johnson, the first mate, also dined with the skipper. He was a tall,
powerfully-built man. He was singularly taciturn, and took no share in the
conversation unless directly asked. He seemed, however, to be able to
appreciate a joke, but never laughed audibly, contenting himself with
drawing his lips apart and showing his teeth.

The wind was light and baffling, so that they did not round the South
Foreland until the seventh day after leaving dock. After that it was
favourable and steady, and they ran without any change until they
approached the line; then there was a fortnight of calm. At last they got
the wind again, and made a rapid run until within five hundred miles of
Cape Horn. The captain was in high glee.

"We have done capitally so far, Mr. Prendergast. I don't think I ever made
so rapid a run. If she goes on like this we shall reach Callao within
three months of starting."

"I don't think the weather will continue like this," the mate said.

This was the first original observation he had made since he had sailed,