you your errors. Before
I demolish your arguments I should like to turn them over in my mind. I
will reduce my ideas to writing and then read them to you."

"I should like nothing better," said Gissing. "And I can think over the
subject more carefully while I peel the potatoes."

"Nonsense," said the Captain. "I do not often get a chance to discuss
theology. I will tell you my idea. You spoke of your experience as
General Manager, when you had charge of a thousand employees. One of
the things we need on this ship is a staff-captain, to take over
the management of the personnel. That would permit me to concentrate
entirely on navigation. In a vessel of this size it is wrong that the
master should have to carry the entire responsibility."

He rang for the steward.

"My compliments to Mr. Pointer, and tell him to come here."

Mr. Pointer appeared shortly in oilskins, saluted, and gazed fixedly at
his superior, with one foot raised upon the brass door-sill.

"Mr. Pointer," said Captain Scottie, "I have appointed Captain Gissing
staff-captain. Take orders from him as you would from me. He will have
complete charge of the ship's discipline."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Mr. Pointer, stood a moment intently to see if
there were further orders, saluted again, and withdrew.

"Now you had better turn in," said the skipper. "Of course you must wear
uniform. I'll send the tailor up to you at once. He can remodel one of
my suits overnight. The trousers will have to be lengthened."

On the chart-room sofa, Gissing dozed and waked and dozed again. On the
bridge near by he heard the steady tread of feet, the mysterious words
of the officer on watch passing the course to his relief. Bells rang
with sharp double clang. Through the open port he could hear the
alternate boom and hiss of the sea under the bows. With the stately lift
and lean of the ship there mingled a faint driving vibration.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The first morning in any new environment is always the most exciting.
Gissing was already awake, and watching the novel sight of a patch of
sunshine sliding to and fro on the deck of the chart-room, when there
was a gentle tap at the door. The Captain's steward entered, carrying a
handsome uniform.

"Six bells, sir," he said. "Your bath is laid on."

Gissing was not very sure just what time it was, but the steward
held out a dressing gown for him to slip on, so he took the hint, and
followed him to the Captain's private