treated
the incident with nonchalance.

"Thought you was to be called w'en the Cross hove in sight, Miss
Yorke?" he said abruptly.

"I am sorry to have to inform you that some people on board cannot
distinguish between falsity and truth," she answered. "But please
don't be angry with any of the men on my account. Mr. Hozier tells me
they often confuse the False Cross with the real one, and the mistake
has been enjoyable. Now I know all about it--what were those stars you
were telling me the names of, Mr. Hozier?"

Philip took the cue she offered.

"Sirius, and Orion, and Ursa Major. I shall write the names and
particulars for you after breakfast," he said with a smile.

"Reg'lar 'umbug the Southern Cross," grunted Coke; "it ain't a patch on
the Bear."

"Mr. Hozier said something like that," put in Iris mischievously.

"Did 'e? Well 'e's right for once. But don't you go an' take as
Gospel most things 'e says. Every shipmaster knows that the second
officer simply can't speak the truth. It ain't natural. W'y, it 'ud
bust a steam pipe if 'e tole you wot 'e really thought of the ole man."

Coke grinned at his own pleasantry. To one of his hearers, at least,
it seemed to be passing strange that he was so ready to forget such a
vital defect in the steering gear as had manifested its existence a few
minutes earlier.

At any rate, he remained on the bridge until long after Iris had seen
and admired the cluster of stars which oldtime navigators used to
regard with awe. When shafts of white light began to taper,
pennon-like, in the eastern sky, the girl went back to her cabin.
Contrary to Hozier's expectation, Coke did not attempt to draw from him
any account of their conversation prior to the inexplicable mishap to
the wheel. He examined a couple of charts, made a slight alteration in
the course, and at four o'clock took charge of the bridge.

"Just 'ave a look round now while things is quiet," he said, nodding to
Hozier confidentially. "I'll tell you wot I fancy: a rat dragged a bit
of bone into a gear-box. If the plankin' is badly worn anywhere, get
the carpenter to see to it. I do 'ate to 'ave a feelin' that the wheel
can let you down. S'pose we was makin' Bahia on the homeward run, an'
that 'appened! It 'ud be the end of the pore ole ship; an' oo'd credit
it? Not a soul. They'd all say 'Jimmie threw 'er away!' Oh, I know
'em, the swine--never a good word for a man while 'e keeps straight,
but