nd had been domiciled in America for the last twenty years,
which he had spent in Mr Vansittart's workshops, but his accent was as
broad as though he had just come straight from Glasgow. He happened to
make some passing reference to a certain Mackintosh as being busy with
"the engines down below"; and when I enquired with some surprise what
engines he referred to, he exclaimed:

"Hoots, laddie! D'ye no' ken that we're an auxiliary-screw, then?"

"Auxiliary-screw!" I ejaculated. "No, certainly not. I had a good
look at the craft before I came aboard, but I saw no sign of a
propeller. And besides, where is your funnel?"

"Funnel, man!" he retorted. "We ha'e no need o' a funnel. Our engines
are operated by gasoline, and we ha'e ane o' twa hunner and feefty
horse-power, giving the ship a speed o' seven knots, forbye anither ane
o' a hunner and feefty to drive the dynamos and work the capstan and
winches. Man, I tell ye this bonnie boat is richt up-to-date, and dinna
forget it. As to the propeller, naiturally ye wadna see't, the watter
bein' sae thick."

At Kennedy's pressing invitation I remained aboard to dine, and
incidentally to be introduced to the remaining members of the wardroom
mess--Mr Samuel Briscoe, the second officer, and Mr Robert Mackintosh,
the second engineer. Before the meal was over I had come to agree with
the purser that in selecting Briscoe for her second officer Mrs
Vansittart had not been quite so happily inspired as in the case of the
other members of the mess. He was a pasty-faced fellow of about forty
years of age, baggy under his watery-looking, almost colourless blue
eyes, slow in his movements, glum and churlish of manner, and unpolished
of speech; also I had a suspicion that he was more addicted to drink
than was at all desirable in a man occupying such a responsible position
in such a ship. He would doubtless have done well enough as "dicky" in
an ordinary wind-jammer, but on the quarterdeck of such a craft as the
_Stella Maris_ I considered he was distinctly out of place.

During the progress of the meal I learned that, as I had already
suspected, the yacht was a brand-new ship, this being her first voyage.
Her exact measurement, it appeared, was two thousand six hundred and
seventeen tons. She had originated in the office of Herreshoff, the
world-famous yacht designer, and embraced in her construction every last
refinement known to the most up-to-date naval constructor. Sh