When he looked again, the girl
was much nearer.
"Lord luv' a duck, this time I've got 'em for sure!" he groaned.
His lower jaw dropped, he stared unblinkingly, and purple veins bulged
crookedly on his seamed forehead. He was bereft of the power of
movement. He stood stock-still, blocking the narrow gangway.
"Good morning, Mr. Watts. You remember me, don't you?" said Iris,
showing by her manner that she wished to pass him.
A slight roll of the ship assisted in the disintegration of Watts. He
collapsed sideways into the cook's galley, the door of which was
hospitably open. Somewhat frightened by the wildness of his looks,
Iris ran on, and dashed at the foot of the companion rather
breathlessly. The keen air was already tingeing her cheeks with color.
When she reached the bridge, where Captain Coke was propped against the
chart-house, with a thick, black cigar sticking in his mouth and
apparently trying to touch his nose, she had lost a good deal of the
pallor and woe-begone semblance that had demoralized Hozier.
Coke heard the rapid, light footsteps, and turned his head. At all
times slow of thought and slower of speech, he was galvanized into a
sudden rigidity that differed only in degree from the symptoms
displayed by his chief officer.
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