it. The only matter that concerned him was to bring his ship to her
destination in a seaman-like manner, and let who would perplex their
brains with fantasy. Indeed, he was beginning to regard the Baron as a
harmless lunatic, whom Providence had entrusted with the spending of a
rich man's money for the special benefit of the seafaring community.

"A straight punch!" he repeated, gazing with a species of solemn joy at
the men leaning against the rails forward. "They're a hard-bitten lot
from wot I've seen of 'em, an' they'll have to have it before they're
at sea with me very long. Won't they, Tagg?"

"They will," said. Tagg, eying the unconscious watch with equal fixity.

Dick went to his cabin firm in the belief that he would lie awake half
the night. But his brain soon refused to bother itself with problems
which time might solve in a manner not yet conceivable, and he slept
soundly until he was roused at an early hour. Day dawned bright and
clear. A pleasant northwesterly breeze swept the smoke haze from off
the town and kissed the blue waters of the land-locked harbor into
white-crested wavelets. He took the morning watch, from four o'clock
until eight, and all he had to do was to make sure that the men tried
to whiten decks already spotless, and cleaned brass which shone in the
sun the instant that luminary peeped over the shoulder of Notre Dame de
la Garde. Although the _Aphrodite_ lay inside the mole, her bridge and
promenade deck were high enough to permit him to see the rocky islet
crowned by the Chateau d'If. He knew that the hero of Dumas'
masterpiece had burrowed a tunnel out of that grim prison, to swim
ashore an outcast, a man with a price on his head, yet bearing with him
the precious paper whose secret should make him the fabulously rich
Count of Monte Christo. It was only a soul-stirring romance, a dim