deck behind them, not quite the place for an ordinary seaman, but Spanish Dick was subject to little discipline and many privileges, the chiefest of which being that of companion or troubadour to Sally.
"It ees a floating islan'," he continued with such seriousness as Hamlet must have assumed, "no thing under it, no coral, no rock, jus' water. An' it drif' around in the blue sea."
"Drifts around just like that!" teased the girl.
Again the melting brown eyes assumed their look of injured innocence.
"Yes, by San Christobal de Colon, the good saint, I have seen eet—once in the night. We sight eet in the dogwatch an try to reach eet. All over with beautiful lights—like what you call—phosphor—an' like a beautiful veil with gold lightning in eet, and in the sky always shining, many moons, seven moons, six leetle young ones an' one ol' one.
"We never come near eet. Yet we sail very fast, twelve knot was the wind. But always eet drif on an on, though we sail so fast. In the morning—" he threw up his hands with a mystifying gesture—"gone!"
"If the law allowed, I'd put you in irons, Dick. Why do you fill the girl's head with your fool superstitions?" But the skipper's reproof was only mockly severe. Dick was really a Godsend for Sally.
"No fool, Señor," he was replying, "the fool ees he who not believe. The wise have faith."
"He's right in a way, Captain Harve," championed his ward. "I don't swallow everything, but there's enough of
