here."

Monk consented to see Lanyard, and immediately offered him a profound
salute, which was punctiliously returned. His eyebrows mounted to the
roots of his hair.

"Ah! that good Monsieur Duchemin."

"But no!" Liane laughed. "It is true, the resemblance is striking; I do
not say that, if Paul would consent to grow a beard, it would not be
extraordinary. But--permit me, Captain Monk, to present my brother,
Paul Delorme."

"Your brother, mademoiselle?" The educated eyebrows expressed any
number of emotions. Monk's hand was cordially extended. "But I am
enchanted, Monsieur Delorme, to welcome on board the Sybarite the
brother of your charming sister."

Lanyard resigned limp fingers to his clasp.

"And most public-spirited of you, I'm sure, Captain Monk... I believe I
understood Liane to say Captain Monk?" The captain bowed. "Captain
Whitaker Monk?" Another bow. Lanyard looked to Liane: "Forgive me if I
seem confused, but I thought you told me Mister Whitaker Monk had
sailed for America a week ago."

"And so he did," the captain agreed blandly, while Liane confirmed his
statement with many rapid and emphatic nods. "Mr. Monk, the owner, is
my first cousin. Fortune has been less kind to me in a worldly way;
consequently you see in me merely the skipper of my wealthy kinsman's
yacht."

"And your two names are the same--yours and your cousin's? You're both
Whitaker Monks?"

"It is a favourite name in our family, monsieur."

Lanyard wagged his head in solemn admiration.

Phinuit had come to his side, and was offering his hand in turn.

"It's all gospel, Mr. Lanyard," he declared, with a cheerful
informality which Lanyard found more engaging than Monk's sometimes
laboured mannerisms. "He's sure-enough Captain Whitaker Monk, skipper
of the good ship Sybarite, Mister Whitaker Monk, owner. And my name is
really Phinuit, and I'm honest-to-goodness secretary to Mr. Monk. You
see, the owner got a hurry call from New York, last week, and sailed
from Southampton, leaving us to bring his pretty ship safely home."

"That makes it all so clear!"

"Well, anyway, I'm glad to meet you to your bare face. I've heard a lot
about you, and--if it matters to you--thought a lot more."

"If it comes to that, Mr. Phinuit, I have devoted some thought to you."

"Oh, daresay. And now--if mademoiselle is agreeable--suppose we
adjourn to the skipper's quarters, where we can improve one another's
acquaintance without some snooping st