“Nigel,” said the captain, in a tone and with a look that were meant to imply intense solemnity, “have you ever spoken to her about love?”

“No, father.”

“Has she ever spoken to you?”

“No—­at least—­not with her lips.”

“Come, boy, you’re humbuggin’ your old father.  Her tongue couldn’t well do it without the lips lendin’ a hand.”

“Well then—­with neither,” returned the son.  “She spoke with her eyes—­not intentionally, of course, for the eyes, unlike the lips, refuse to be under control.”

“Hm!  I see—­reef-point-patterin’ poetics again!  An’ what did she say with her eyes?”

“Really, father, you press me too hard; it is difficult to translate eye-language, but if you’ll only let memory have free play and revert to that time, nigh quarter of a century ago, when you first met with a certain real poetess, perhaps—­”

“Ah! you dog! you have me there.  But how dare you, sir, venture to think of marryin’ on nothin’?”

“I don’t think of doing so.  Am I not a first mate with a handsome salary?”

“No, lad, you’re not.  You’re nothin’ better than a seaman out o’ work, with your late ship wrecked in a cocoa-nut grove!”

“That’s true,” returned Nigel with a laugh.  “But is not the cargo of the said ship safe in Batavia?  Has not its owner a good bank account in England?  Won’t another ship be wanted, and another first mate, and would the owner dare to pass over his own son, who is such a competent seaman—­according to your own showing?  Come, father, I turn the tables on you and ask you to aid rather than resist me in this matter.”

“Well, I will, my boy, I will,” said the captain heartily, as he laid his hand on his son’s shoulder.  “But, seriously, you must haul off this little craft and clap a stopper on your tongue—­ay, and on your eyes too—­till three points are considered an’ made quite clear.  First, you must find out whether the hermit would be agreeable.  Second, you must look the matter straight in the face and make quite sure that you mean it.  For better or for worse.  No undoin’ that knot, Nigel, once it’s fairly tied!  And, third, you must make quite sure that Winnie is sure of her own mind, an’ that—­that—­”

“We’re all sure all round, father.  Quite right.  I agree with you.  ’All fair an’ aboveboard’ should be the sailing orders of every man in such matters, especially of every seaman.  But, will you explain how I am to make sure of Winnie’s state of mind without asking her about it?”

“Well, I don’t exactly see my way,” replied the captain slowly.  “What d’ee say to my soundin’ her on the subject?”

“Couldn’t think of it!  You may be first-rate at deep-sea soundings, father, but you couldn’t sound the depths of a young girl’s heart.  I must reserve that for myself, however long it may be delayed.”

“So be it, lad.  The only embargo that I lay upon you is—­haul off, and mind you don’t let your figurehead go by the board.  Meanwhile, here comes the boat.  Now, Nigel, none o’ your courtin’ till everything is settled and the wind fair—­dead aft my lad, and blowin’ stiff.  You and the hermit are goin’ off to Krakatoa to-day, I suppose?”