the seaman's "_Adsum_," and I said--

"That's evident; the question is, when are you going ashore again?"

"I don't know, but I guess I'll get ashore at New York, because I mean
to go to Niagara----"

"You think you'll go ashore at New York, not 'you guess,' Mary."

"But I do guess, and I don't think, and I wish you wouldn't interrupt
me with your perpetual grammar. What's the good of grammar? No one had
a good time with grammar yet."

"That's not exactly the purpose of grammar----"

"No, nor of orthography, nor deportment; I learnt all these at a guinea
a quarter extra when I was at school, so you're just wasting your time,
because I'm finished."

"Finished?"

"Yes, didn't Roderick tell you that I went to a finishing school? You
wouldn't finish me all over again, would you?"

"Not for anything--but the question is, why did you come aboard here,
and why didn't you go to Salisbury? What is your old aunt thinking
now?"

She laughed saucily, throwing back her head so that her hair fell well
about her shoulders; and then she would have answered me, but I turned
round, hearing a step, and there stood our new second mate, Francis
Paolo. Our eyes met at once with a long, searching gaze, but he did not
flinch. If he were a spy, he was no poor actor, and he stood his ground
without the movement of a muscle.

"Well?" I said.

"Is Mr. Stewart awake yet, sir?" he said, asking for Roderick.

"I don't know, but you may wake him if he isn't."

"The skipper wants a word with him when he gets up," he continued; "we
are all ready to heave anchor when he speaks."

"That's all right: I'll give you the word, so you can weigh now;
perhaps, Mary, you'll go and hammer at Roderick's door, or he'll sleep
until breakfast time to-morrow."

She ran at the word, and the new second mate turned to go, but first he
followed the girl with his eyes, earnestly, as though he looked upon
some all-fascinating picture.

I watched him walk forward, and followed him, listening as he directed
the men; and a more seaman-like fellow I have never seen. If he were an
Italian, he had left all accent of speech in his own country, and he
gave his orders smartly and in a tone which demanded obedience. About
his seamanship I never had a doubt from the first; and I say this now,
a more capable officer than Francis Paolo never took a watch.

Yet he was a man of violent temper, soon displayed before me.

As I watched him from the hurricane deck, I he