gail, and that Hiram Fell was a blind old fool and—then he, too, fell asleep.
In the morning the weather was still grey and fitful. Twice he went to his cabin and listened. There was no sound. A half-hour later he was taking a turn on deck while the crew were making preparations for the trip south, when he was blind-folded by two hands clasped across his eyes, and a voice, very funny in its attempted bass, cried:
"Guess who!"
Delighted at the swift recovery of her spirits, he seized both her hands in his, took her blow, and ordered the cook to bring coffee and bacon from the galley. Between nibbles, she asked him, using all the witchery of her black eyes and voice:
"Captain Harve, you'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?"
"Of course, lass, why?"
"Then take me to Ben."
He pretended to be stern.
"What do you mean, you minx of a mermaid, don't you know that with high tide we clear for Rio?"
"But, my dear new daddy," (yes, she was like a child again, he thought) "Ben is alone on an island. He may be starving now, or eaten by wild beasts or cannibals—or what do they have there? Anyway there's something terrible about it. I don't believe any of those fairy stories he and you used to tell about them, beautiful, and floating, and vanishing, and all"
"You don't eh, well you'd better."
"Well it'd be just as bad if the island vanished with him,
