cutting the waves, sped rapidly across the Atlantic, and there was nothing now to do but keep a strict look out. The day following the discovery of Miss Jenny's identity, James Playfair paced the deck at the poop with a rapid step; he had made no attempt to see the young girl and resume the conversation of the day before.
Whilst he was walking to and fro, Crockston passed him several times, looking at him askant with a satisfied grin: he evidently wanted to speak to the Captain, and at last his persistent manner attracted the attention of the latter, who said to him, somewhat impatiently,—
"How now, what do you want? You are turning round me like a swimmer round a buoy: when are you going to leave off?"
"Excuse me. Captain," answered Crockston, winking, "I wanted to speak to you."
"Speak, then."
"Oh, it is nothing very much, I only wanted to tell you frankly that you are a good fellow at bottom."
"Why at bottom?"
"At bottom and surface also."
"I don't want your compliments."
"I am not complimenting you, I shall wait to do that when you have gone to the end."
"To what end?"
"To the end of your task."
