ery
opportunity, however slight, to show insubordination, and I determined
then that at the first real breach of discipline I should take action
that would remind Snider, ever after, that I was still his commanding
officer.

I could not help but notice that his eyes were much upon Victory, and I
did not like it, for I knew the type of man he was. But as it would
not be necessary ever to leave the girl alone with him I felt no
apprehension for her safety.

After the incident of the discussion of barbarians I thought that
Victory's manner toward me changed perceptibly. She held aloof from
me, and when Snider took his turn at the wheel, sat beside him, upon
the pretext that she wished to learn how to steer the launch. I
wondered if she had guessed the man's antipathy for me, and was seeking
his company solely for the purpose of piquing me.

Snider was, too, taking full advantage of his opportunity. Often he
leaned toward the girl to whisper in her ear, and he laughed much,
which was unusual with Snider.

Of course, it was nothing at all to me; yet, for some unaccountable
reason, the sight of the two of them sitting there so close to one
another and seeming to be enjoying each other's society to such a
degree irritated me tremendously, and put me in such a bad humor that I
took no pleasure whatsoever in the last few hours of the crossing.

We aimed to land near the site of ancient Ostend. But when we neared
the coast we discovered no indication of any human habitations
whatever, let alone a city. After we had landed, we found the same
howling wilderness about us that we had discovered on the British Isle.
There was no slightest indication that civilized man had ever set a
foot upon that portion of the continent of Europe.

Although I had feared as much, since our experience in England, I could
not but own to a feeling of marked disappointment, and to the gravest
fears of the future, which induced a mental depression that was in no
way dissipated by the continued familiarity between Victory and Snider.

I was angry with myself that I permitted that matter to affect me as it
had. I did not wish to admit to myself that I was angry with this
uncultured little savage, that it made the slightest difference to me
what she did or what she did not do, or that I could so lower myself as
to feel personal enmity towards a common sailor. And yet, to be
honest, I was doing both.

Finding nothing to detain us about the s