In everything
appertaining to the vessel's navigation the discipline of a man-of-war
was observed on board the _Andromeda_. So Coke's complacency came now
quite unexpectedly, but Iris was learning to school her tongue.

"Thank you very much," she said. "When shall I see him?"

"Oh, you needn't bother. I'll tell 'im meself."

She was somewhat disappointed at this. Hozier would be free for an
hour before he turned in, and they might have enjoyed a nice chat while
he smoked on the poop. In her heart of hearts, she was beginning to
acknowledge that a voyage through summer seas on a cargo vessel, with
no other society than that of unimaginative sailormen, savored of
tedium, indeed, almost of deadly monotony. Her rare meetings with
Hozier marked bright spots in a dull round of hours. During their
small intercourse she had discovered that he was well informed. They
had hit upon a few kindred tastes in books and music; they even
differed sharply in their appreciation of favorite authors, and what
could be more conducive to complete understanding than the attack and
defense of the shrine of some tin god of literature?

While, therefore, it was strange that Captain Coke should actually
propose a visit to the bridge at an unusual time--at a time, too, when
Hozier would be on duty--it struck her as far more curious that he
should endeavor to prevent an earlier meeting. But she had never lost
her intuitive fear of Coke. His many faults certainly did not include
a weak will. He meant what he said--also a good deal that he left
unsaid--and his word was law to everyone on board the _Andromeda_. So
Iris contented herself with meek agreement.

"I shall be delighted to come at any time. I have often read about the
Southern Cross, yet three short weeks ago I little thought----"

"You reely didn't think about it at all," broke in Coke. "If you 'ad,
you'd 'ave known you couldn't cross the line without seein' it."

Here was another perplexing element in the skipper's conduct. That
Iris was a stowaway was forgotten. She was treated with the attention
and ceremony due to the owner's niece. Coke never lost an opportunity
of dinning into the ears of Watts, or Hozier, or the steward, or any
members of the crew who were listening, that Miss Yorke's presence in
their midst was a preordained circumstance, a thing fully discussed and
agreed on as between her uncle and himself, but carried out in an
irregular manner, owing to so