For the remainder of the morning he made no sign.  The land was almost out of sight, and he sat down quietly to consider his course of action for the next few weeks.  Dinner-time found him still engrossed in thought, and the way in which he received an intimation from a good-natured seaman that his dinner was getting cold showed that his spirits were still unquelled.

By the time afternoon came he was faint with hunger, and, having determined upon his course of action, he sent a fairly polite message to Captain Hardy and asked for an interview.

The captain, who was resting from his labours in the chart-room, received him with the same air of cold severity which had so endeared Captain Nugent himself to his subordinates.

“You have come to explain your extraordinary behaviour of this morning, I suppose?” he said, curtly.

“I have come to secure a berth aft,” said Captain Nugent.  “I will pay a small deposit now, and you will, of course, have the balance as soon as we get back.  This is without prejudice to any action I may bring against you later on.”

“Oh, indeed,” said the other, raising his eyebrows.  “We don’t take passengers.”

“I am here against my will,” said Captain Nu-gent, “and I demand the treatment due to my position.”

“If I had treated you properly,” said Captain Hardy, “I should have put you in irons for knocking down my second officer.  I know nothing about you or your position.  You’re a stowaway, and you must do the best you can in the circumstances.”

“Are you going to give me a cabin?” demanded the other, menacingly.

“Certainly not,” said Captain Hardy.  “I have been making inquiries, and I find that you have only yourself to thank for the position in which you find yourself.  I am sorry to be harsh with you.”

“Harsh?” repeated the other, hardly able to believe his ears.  “You—­ harsh to me?”

“But it is for your own good,” pursued Captain Hardy; “it is no pleasure to me to punish you.  I shall keep an eye on you while you’re aboard, and if I see that your conduct is improving you will find that I am not a hard man to get on with.”

Captain Nugent stared at him with his lips parted.  Three times he essayed to speak and failed; then he turned sharply and, gaining the open air, stood for some time trying to regain his composure before going forward again.  The first mate, who was on the bridge, regarded him curiously, and then, with an insufferable air of authority, ordered him away.

The captain obeyed mechanically and, turning a deaf ear to the inquiries of the men, prepared to make the best of an intolerable situation, and began to cleanse his bunk.  First of all he took out the bedding and shook it thoroughly, and then, pro-curing soap and a bucket of water, began to scrub with a will.  Hostile comments followed the action.

“We ain’t clean enough for ’im,” said one voice.