ON THE DARK DECK

Ease, of all good gifts the best,
  War and wave at last decree: 
Love alone denies us rest,
  Crueler than sword or sea.

William Watson.

“I am Columbus every time I cross,” said Shirley.  “What lies out there in the west is an undiscovered country.”

“Then I shall have to take the part of the rebellious and doubting crew.  There is no America, and we’re sure to get into trouble if we don’t turn back.”

“You shall be clapped into irons and fed on bread and water, and turned over to the Indians as soon as we reach land.”

“Don’t starve me!  Let me hang from the yard-arm at once, or walk the plank.  I choose the hour immediately after dinner for my obsequies!”

“Choose a cheerfuller word!” pleaded Shirley.

“I am sorry to suggest mortality, but I was trying to let my imagination play a little on the eternal novelty of travel, and you have dropped me down ‘full faddom five.’”

“I’m sorry, but I have only revealed an honest tendency of character.  Piracy is probably a more profitable line of business than discovery.  Discoverers benefit mankind at great sacrifice and expense, and die before they can receive the royal thanks.  A pirate’s business is all done over the counter on a strictly cash basis.”

They were silent for a moment, continuing their tramp.  Pair weather was peopling the decks.  Dick Claiborne was engrossed with a vivacious California girl, and Shirley saw him only at meals; but he and Armitage held night sessions in the smoking-room, with increased liking on both sides.

“Armitage isn’t a bad sort,” Dick admitted to Shirley.  “He’s either an awful liar, or he’s seen a lot of the world.”

“Of course, he has to travel to sell his glassware,” observed Shirley.  “I’m surprised at your seeming intimacy with a mere ’peddler,’—­and you an officer in the finest cavalry in the world.”

“Well, if he’s a peddler he’s a high-class one—­probably the junior member of the firm that owns the works.”

Armitage saw something of all the Claibornes every day in the pleasant intimacy of ship life, and Hilton Claiborne found the young man an interesting talker.  Judge Claiborne is, as every one knows, the best-posted American of his time in diplomatic history; and when they were together Armitage suggested topics that were well calculated to awaken the old lawyer’s interest.

“The glass-blower’s a deep one, all right,” remarked Dick to Shirley.  “He jollies me occasionally, just to show there’s no hard feeling; then he jollies the governor; and when I saw our mother footing it on his arm this afternoon I almost fell in a faint.  I wish you’d hold on to him tight till we’re docked.  My little friend from California is crazy about him—­and I haven’t dared tell her he’s only a drummer; such a fling would be unchivalrous of me—­”

“It would, Richard.  Be a generous foe—­whether—­whether you can afford to be or not!”