“You’ll find life very different on one of these big ships,” Lieutenant Trout continued.  “You will soon begin to realize that we are in a cramped atmosphere.  With fifteen hundred officers and men abroad there is barely elbow room at any time, and sometimes not that.”

“This ship looks big enough to carry a small city full of people,” Darrin smiled.

“See here!” Trent stepped to the starboard rail, looking forward.

“Just look ahead, and see the magnificent distance to the bow,” continued the officer of the deck.  “We call a ship ‘she,’ Darrin, and let me assure you, ‘she’ is some girl!  Look at the magnificent length and breadth.  Yet, when we are at sea, you will soon begin to realize how cramped the life is.”

After chatting a little longer with Lieutenant Trent, Ensign Darrin started forward along the decks, taking in all he could see of this huge, floating castle.

Presently he returned to the quarter-deck, but Lieutenant Trent was busy with a lieutenant of the marine guard.  Dave stepped inside.  Almost immediately he heard a step at his side.  Glancing around, Dave looked into the face of Lieutenant Cantor.

“A while ago I noticed you talking with Trent,” Dave’s division officer remarked, in a low voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you discuss me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you say, Darrin?”

“I mentioned that you were my division officer.”

“Did Trent say anything?”

“Mr. Trent said that you were a very efficient officer.”

“Did you tell him anything—–­about—–­er—–­about last night?”

“Nothing,” Dave answered.

“Positive about that?” insinuated Cantor.

“Sir,” Dave answered, “I am an officer and, I trust—–­a gentleman.”

“Then you told Trent nothing about last night?”

“I have already told you, sir, that I didn’t.”

“Nor to anyone else on this ship?” pressed the lieutenant.

“I told Dalzell, last night, that I had met with a stranger who
was-----”

“That will do!” snapped Cantor.

“Very good, sir.”

“Have you told Dalzell about me since coming aboard?”

“I have not.”

“And you won’t?” pressed Cantor.

“On that point, sir, I decline to pledge myself,” Darrin responded, with unusual stiffness.

“Darrin, do you want to make an enemy?”

“Mr. Cantor, I never, at any time, wish to make an enemy.  I am not trying to make one of you.”

“I will regard that as a promise from you,” returned Cantor, then moved quickly away.

“It would have been better,” murmured Darrin, softly, turning and regarding the moving figure, “if you had heard me out.  However, Mr. Cantor, though you are not now here to hear me say it, I did not promise silence.  Yet it is difficult to conceive what would make me open my mouth on the subject of last night’s happening.  I have never been a tale-bearer, and, much as I may despise that fellow, and the affront that he offers the Navy, in remaining in the service, I fancy his secret is safe from all—–­except Dalzell.  Danny and I haven’t yet begun to have secrets from each other.”