The mate plunged a quick hand inside the green sweater.

"No, he's not. But he's blind. Get out with that stuff, Jolak, what d'ye
think this is? Get me some brandy, somebody."

Jolak retired with the pickled cabbage he had offered as a restorative.
No one looked to see where the brandy came from on a ship where none was
supposed to be but in the medicine chest. It came, however, without
delay, and the mate opened the flask.

"Now," he said, when he had poured some of its contents down the child's
throat, and lifted him from the deck, "let me through."

The first thing of which Kirk was conscious was a long, swinging motion,
unlike the short roll of the _Dutchman_. There was also a complex
creaking and sighing, a rustling and rattling. There was a most curious,
half-disagreeable, half-fascinating smell. Kirk lay quietly on something
which seemed much softer and warmer than the bottom of the _Flying
Dutchman_, and presently he became aware of a soft strumming sound, and
of a voice which sang murmurously:

"Off Cape de Gatte
I lost my hat,
And where d'ye think I found it?
In Port Mahon
Under a stone
With all the girls around it."

"I like that," said Kirk, in a small voice. "Go on."

But the singing stopped immediately, and Kirk feared that he had only
dreamed it, after all. However, a large, warm hand was laid quite
substantially on his forehead, and the same voice that had been singing,
said:

"H'm! Thought you'd have another go at the old world, after all?"

"Where is this?" Kirk asked.

"This is the four-mast schooner _Celestine_, returning from South
America. I am Martin, mate of said schooner--at your service. Hungry?"

"That's funny," said Kirk; "the boat Ken gave me is called the
_Celestine_. And _she's_ a four-masted schooner. Where's Ken?"

"I'm sorry--I don't know. Hungry?"

"I think I am," said Kirk.

Certainly the mate of the _Celestine_ had a most strong and comfortable
arm wherewith to raise a person. He administered bread and hot condensed
milk, and Kirk began to realize that he was very hungry indeed.

"Now you go to sleep," Mr. Martin advised, after his brief manner.
"Warm, now?"

Yes, Kirk was quite warm and cozy, but very much bewildered, and
desirous of asking a hundred questions. These the mate forbade.

"You go to sleep," he commanded.

"Then please sing another tune," Kirk said. "What was that you were
playing on?"

"Violin," said Mr. Martin. "Fiddle. I was plunking it l