envied the stolid
quartermaster who was steering. So, assuming an air of calm certainty,
he entered the wheelhouse.

"I'll take her for a while," he said.

"Aye, aye, sir," said the quartermaster, and surrendered the wheel to
him.

"You might string out a few flags," Gissing said. He had been noticing
the bright signal buntings in the rack, and thought it a pity not to use
them.

"I like to see a ship well dressed," he added.

"Aye, aye, sir," said Dane. "Any choice, sir?"

Gissing picked out a string of flags which were particularly lively in
colour-scheme, and had them hoisted. Then he gave his attention to the
wheel. He found it quite an art, and was surprised to learn that a big
ship requires so much helm. But it was very pleasant. He took care to
steer toward patches of sea that looked interesting, and to cut into any
particular waves that took his fancy. After an hour or so, he sighted a
fishing schooner, and gave chase. He found it so much fun to run close
beside her (taking care to pass to leeward, so as not to cut off her
wind) that a mile farther on he turned and steered a neat circle
about the bewildered craft. The Pomerania's passengers were greatly
interested, and lined the rails trying to make out what the fishermen
were shouting. The captain of the schooner seemed particularly agitated,
kept waving at the signal flags and barking through a megaphone. During
these manoeuvres Mr. Pointer gazed so hard at the horizon that Gissing
felt a bit embarrassed.

"I thought it wise to find out exactly what our turning-circle is," he
said.

Mr. Pointer saluted. He was a well-trained officer.

Late in the afternoon the Captain reappeared, looking more cheerful.
Gissing was still at the helm, which he found so fascinating he would
not relinquish it. He had ordered his tea served on a little stand
beside the wheel so that he could drink it while he steered. "Hullo!"
said the Captain. "I see you've changed the course."

"It seemed best to do so," said Gissing firmly. He felt that to show any
weakness at this point would be fatal.

"Oh, well, probably it doesn't matter. I'm coming round to some of your
ideas."

Gissing saw that this would never do. Unless he could keep the master
disturbed by philosophic doubts, Scottie would expect to resume command
of the ship.

"Well," he said, "I've been thinking about it, too. I believe I went
a bit too far. But what do you think about this? Do you believe that
Cons