and we shall save the three days we would have lost had we touched Mazatlan.  That,” he added, answering an impatient interrogation in Banks’ eye, “at least, is the captain’s idea, I reckon.”  He laughed, and went on still gayly,—­“But what’s the use of anticipating?  Why should we spoil any little surprise that our gallant captain may have in store for us?  I’ve been trying to convert this business man to my easy philosophy, Miss Keene, but he is incorrigible; he is actually lamenting his lost chance of hearing the latest news at Mazatlan, and getting the latest market quotations, instead of offering a thanksgiving for another uninterrupted day of freedom in this glorious air.”

With a half humorous extravagance he unloosed his already loose necktie, turned his Byron collar still lower, and squared his shoulders ostentatiously to the sea breeze.  Accustomed as his two companions were to his habitually extravagant speech, it did not at that moment seem inconsistent with the intoxicating morning air and the exhilaration of sky and wave.  A breath of awakening and resurrection moved over the face of the waters; recreation and new-born life sparkled everywhere; the past night seemed forever buried in the vast and exundating sea.  The reefs had been shaken out, and every sail set to catch the steadier breeze of the day; and as the quickening sun shone upon the dazzling canvas that seemed to envelop them, they felt as if wrapped in the purity of a baptismal robe.

Nevertheless, Miss Keene’s eyes occasionally wandered from the charming prospect towards the companion-ladder.  Presently she became ominously and ostentatiously interested in the view again, and at the same moment a young man’s head and shoulders appeared above the companionway.  With a bound he was on the slanting deck, moving with the agility and adaptability of youth, and approached the group.  He was quite surprised to find Miss Keene there so early, and Miss Keene was equally surprised at his appearance, notwithstanding the phenomenon had occurred with singular regularity for the last three weeks.  The two spectators of this gentle comedy received it as they had often received it before, with a mixture of apparent astonishment and patronizing unconsciousness, and, after a decent interval, moved away together, leaving the young people alone.

The hesitancy and awkwardness which usually followed the first moments of their charming isolation were this morning more than usually prolonged.

“It seems we are not going into Mazatlan, after all,” said Miss Keene at last, without lifting her conscious eyes from the sea.

“No,” returned the young fellow quickly.  “I heard all about it down below, and we had quite an indignation meeting over it.  I believe Mrs. Markham wanted to head a deputation to wait upon the captain in his berth.  It seems that the first officer, or whosoever is running the ship, has concluded we’ve lost too much time already, and we’re going to strike a bee-line for Cape St. Lucas, and give Mazatlan the go-by.  We’ll save four days by it.  I suppose it don’t make any difference to you, Miss Keene, does it?”