“We must put up with the disappointment and do without’em,” said Stobell.

Mr. Chalk gazed helplessly ashore.  “But we’ve got their luggage,” he cried.

“Duckett sent it ashore,” said Brisket.  “Thinking that there was men’s work ahead, and that the ladies might be in the way, he put it over the side and sent it back.  And mind, believing what he did, I’m not saying he wasn’t in the right.”

Mr. Chalk again professed his inability to make head or tail of the proceedings.  Ultimately—­due time having been given for Captain Brisket’s invention to get under way—­he learned that a dyspeptic seaman, mistaking the mate’s back for that of the cook, had first knocked his cap over his eyes and then pushed him over.  “And that, of course,” concluded the captain, “couldn’t be allowed anyway, but, seeing that it was a mistake, we let the chap off.”

“There’s one thing about it,” said Tredgold, as Chalk was about to speak; “it’s shown us the stuff you’re made of, Chalk.”

“He frightened me,” said Brisket, solemnly.  “I own it.  When I saw him come up like that I lost my nerve.”

Mr. Chalk cast a final glance at the dwindling figure on the cliff, and then went silently below and stood in a pleasant reverie before the smashed door.  He came to the same conclusion regarding the desperate nature of his character as the others; and the nervous curiosity of the men, who took sly peeps at him, and the fact that the cook dropped the soup-tureen that evening when he turned and found Mr. Chalk at his elbow, only added to his satisfaction.

He felt less heroic next morning.  The wind had freshened during the night, and the floor of the cabin heaved in a sickening fashion beneath his feet as he washed himself.  The atmosphere was stifling; timbers creaked and strained, and boots and other articles rolled playfully about the floor.

[Illustration:  “He felt less heroic next morning.”]

The strong, sweet air above revived him, but the deck was wet and cheerless and the air chill.  Land had disappeared, and a tumbling waste of grey seas and a leaden sky was all that met his gaze.  Nevertheless, he spoke warmly of the view to Captain Brisket, rather than miss which he preferred to miss his breakfast, contenting himself with half a biscuit and a small cup of tea on deck.  The smell of fried bacon and the clatter of cups and saucers came up from below.

The heavy clouds disappeared and the sun came out.  The sea changed from grey to blue, and Tredgold and Stobell, coming on deck after a good breakfast, arranged a couple of chairs and sat down to admire the scene.  Aloft the new sails shone white in the sun, and spars and rigging creaked musically.  A little spray came flying at intervals over the bows as the schooner met the seas.

“Lovely morning, sir,” said Captain Brisket, who had been for some time exchanging glances with Stobell and Tredgold; “so calm and peaceful.”