"You must really oblige me by doing nothing of the sort," he begged.
"I am sure that my way is best. Besides, you make me feel like an
eavesdropper--a common informer, and that sort of thing, you know."

"I am afraid that I cannot allow any question of sentiment to stand
between me and the discipline of my ship," was the somewhat
uncompromising reply.

Crawshay sighed, and with languid fingers unbuttoned his overcoat and
coat. Then, from some mysterious place in the neighbourhood of his
breast pocket, he produced an envelope containing a single
half-sheet of paper.

"Read that, sir, if you please," he begged.

The captain accepted the envelope with some reluctance, straightened
out its contents, read the few words it contained several times, and
handed back the missive. He stood for a moment like a man in a dream.
Crawshay returned the envelope to his pocket and rose to his feet.

"Well, I'll be getting along," he observed. "We'll have another little
chat, Captain, later on. I must take my matutinal stroll, or I know
how I shall feel about luncheon time. Besides, there are some
exuberant persons on board who are expecting me to offer them
refreshment about one o'clock, out of my winnings, and, attached to
your wonderful country as I am, Captain, I must admit that cocktails
do not agree with me." "One has to get used to them," the captain
murmured absently.

"I am most unfortunate, too, in the size of my feet," Crawshay