story-books, but not always in real life. He was stout and grizzled and
brown and kind. He had a bluff weather-beaten face, lit up with a pair
of shrewd blue eyes which twinkled when he was pleased; and his manner,
though it was full of the habit of command, was quiet and pleasant. He
was a Martinet on board his ship. Not a sailor under him would have
dared dispute his orders for a moment; but he was very popular with
them, notwithstanding; they liked him as much as they feared him, for
they knew him to be their best friend if it came to sickness or trouble
with any of them.

Katy and he grew quite intimate during their long morning talk. The
Captain liked girls. He had one of his own, about Katy's age, and was
fond of talking about her. Lucy was his mainstay at home, he told Katy.
Her mother had been "weakly" now this long time back, and Bess and Nanny
were but children yet, so Lucy had to take command and keep things
ship-shape when he was away.

"She'll be on the lookout when the steamer comes in," said the Captain.
"There's a signal we've arranged which means 'All's well,' and when we
get up the river a little way I always look to see if it's flying. It's
a bit of a towel hung from a particular window; and when I see it I say
to myself, 'Thank God! another voyage safely done and no harm come of
it.' It's a sad kind of work for a man to go off for a twenty-four days'
cruise leaving a sick wife on shore behind him. If it wasn't that I have
Lucy to look after things, I should have thrown up my command long ago."

"Indeed, I am glad you have Lucy; she must he a great comfort to you,"
said Katy, sympathetically; for the Captain's hearty voice trembled a
little as he spoke. She made him tell her the color of Lucy's hair and
eyes, and exactly how tall she was, and what she had studied, and what