“I hope the brute will have an apoplectic fit!” said he.

Yaunie did not quite understand all that was said, but knew it meant some form of obliquy, and replied, “Yes, and I hope so too.”

As soon as Farquarson had finished eating, he straightway came to the state-room and assured his host that he never remembered enjoying a breakfast so much.

“Let’s have a cigar,” said he, “to soothe my nerves a bit.”

This was given him.  He lit up, and was proceeding to discuss the merits of good feeding with great volubility when his harangue was snapped by a request from his host to “cut it,” as he wished to have a yarn with him about a matter which was of great importance to himself.  “In short, I wish you to be most careful not to attract attention to me by any friendly comment about that affair of two years ago.  No one who is in office now would appear to have any suspicion of what took place; or if they do, it is obvious they are not desirous of opening the question up again.  But should it be brought prominently before them, they will have to do something, and it may make it very awkward for me.  Now, what I want you to do for me is this:  never mention the incident again.  I am sure you would not intentionally do anything that would jeopardize my safety, and I feel that I have only to ask and you will give me your word not to do it.”

Farquarson jumped to his feet, gripped the hand of the captain in a sailorly fashion, and said—­

“On my Masonic honour, I swear never to breathe again what you have warned me against, and I’m glad you told me.  I might innocently have got you into a nasty mess.  It never struck me when I was bawling out to you that there was danger.  But between ourselves, it was a bit thick your dashing out of the ‘impregnable port,’ as they called it, and expectin’ to get off scot-free, I have often spun long twisters about it, and you can bet it was always made attractive.”

“I feel sure you would do that, Farquarson, as you were always a good story-teller.”

This encouraging flattery switched his mind with eager interest on to a subject quite irrelevant to the one which had engaged their attention so long.

“Yes,” said he, with a self-satisfied smile, “that’s true.  But talking about yarns, you remember when I was with Milburn’s, running to Hamburg?  The old gentleman asked me to take a few overmen a trip.  They belonged to some mine he was interested in.  By the time we got outside, and got the decks cleared up, it was dark, and the watch was set.  The look-out man went on to the topgallant forecastle, and I was walking from side to side of the bridge when one of the miners came running up, and in great excitement he said—­

“’Captain, for God’s sake gan doon to the cabin and pacify them!  They’re playin’ nap, and they’ve faalen oot amang theirselves, and there’s fair almighty hell gannin’ on.  Aa’s sure if ye divvent get them pacified ther’ll be morder!’