Yet none of these aggressive thoughts showed in the young Ensign’s face.  Eph knew his place, usually, and the amount of dignity that went with any place.

“Make fast alongside!” Eph sang out, as the launch rounded in alongside the schooner.

“What’s wrong with the United States Navy, Midshipman?” came the jovial question from a bronzed, broad-shouldered, bearded man of fifty who appeared at the quarter rail, offering Eph a hand to aid him on board.

But Eph, disdaining the proffered hand, seized the rail, vaulting neatly on board.  Then he straightened up.

“I am Ensign Somers, from the gunboat ‘Sudbury.’”

“Ensign, eh?” muttered the schooner’s master, looking in some bewilderment at Eph’s boyish face.  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Somers.”

“What craft is this, sir?” Eph continued.

“Schooner ‘Varia,’ from New York, bound for Jamaica.”

“We saw ‘Varia’ painted on your stern, of course,” smiled Eph.  “But was that name painted there during the night?”

“Sir?” demanded the skipper, in some astonishment.  “Oh, I see, Ensign.  Your commander thinks we may be sailing under false colors.  Will you be kind enough to step down into my cabin?”

Here an elderly man, in yachting dress, stepped forward out of a group of sailors at the waist of the craft.

“This schooner is chartered to convey—­” he began, but Eph interposed, politely: 

“Pardon me, sir, but I am talking with the captain only.”

Then, turning toward the launch, Ensign Somers called: 

“Corporal, board with your marines, and wait further orders.”

Then Eph followed the captain below.

“The gentleman who spoke to you,” explained Varia’s master, “is Dr. Herman Barnard.  He chartered the ‘Varia’ at New York for a West Indian cruise for himself and his family.  Here are my papers, as master.  Here is the ‘Varia’s’ license to carry passengers, and here are our clearance papers, from New York to Jamaica.”

The papers were all in regular order.  Eph looked them over, noting that the master’s name was Walford.

“I don’t see anything wrong here, Captain Walford,” Eph continued.  “Where is your list of passengers?”

“Here, sir.”

Eph glanced over the list, noting that besides Dr. Barnard, there were five other men passengers, besides Mrs. Barnard, her two daughters and one other woman.

“I shall have to ask you, Captain, to line your passengers up on deck,” Eph continued.

“I had hoped to escape that annoyance, sir,” protested the schooner’s master.  “The ladies were alarmed, and took to their staterooms.”

“I am very sorry, Captain,” Eph insisted, “but I must look over the passengers.”

“Very good, then,” sighed Captain Walford.

“And muster the crew forward.  I must see on deck every person on this craft.”

“Very good, sir.”