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matter of training； and the English are better trained； that is all。 Your
countrymen will be trained as well in time。 As Mr。 Tudor said； the
Yankees are young。〃
〃Thank goodness we haven't begun to tell such lies yet！〃 was Joan's
ejaculation。
〃Oh； but you have；〃 Sheldon said quickly。 〃You were telling me a lie
of that order only the other day。 You remember when you were going up
the lantern…halyards hand over hand？ Your face was the personification
of duplicity。〃
〃It was no such thing。〃
〃Pardon me a moment；〃 he went on。 〃Your face was as calm and
peaceful as though you were reclining in a steamer…chair。 To look at your
face one would have inferred that carrying the weight of your body up a
rope hand over hand was a very commonplace accomplishmentas easy as
rolling off a log。 And you needn't tell me； Miss Lackland； that you didn't
make faces the first time you tried to climb a rope。 But； like any circus
athlete； you trained yourself out of the face…making period。 You trained
your face to hide your feelings； to hide the exhausting effort your muscles
were making。 It was； to quote Mr。 Tudor； a subtler exhibition of physical
prowess。 And that is all our English reserve isa mere matter of training。
Certainly we are proud inside of the things we do and have done； proud as
Luciferyes； and prouder。 But we have grown up； and no longer talk
about such things。〃
〃I surrender；〃 Joan cried。 〃You are not so stupid after all。〃
〃Yes； you have us there；〃 Tudor admitted。 〃But you wouldn't have
had us if you hadn't broken your training rules。〃
〃How do you mean？〃
〃By talking about it。〃
Joan clapped her hands in approval。 Tudor lighted a fresh cigarette；
while Sheldon sat on； imperturbably silent。
〃He got you there；〃 Joan challenged。 〃Why don't you crush him？〃
〃Really； I can't think of anything to say；〃 Sheldon said。 〃I know my
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position is sound； and that is satisfactory enough。〃
〃You might retort；〃 she suggested； 〃that when an adult is with
kindergarten children he must descend to kindergarten idioms in order to
make himself intelligible。 That was why you broke training rules。 It
was the only way to make us children understand。〃
〃You've deserted in the heat of the battle； Miss Lackland； and gone
over to the enemy；〃 Tudor said plaintively。
But she was not listening。 Instead； she was looking intently across
the compound and out to sea。 They followed her gaze； and saw a green
light and the loom of a vessel's sails。
〃I wonder if it's the Martha come back；〃 Tudor hazarded。
〃No； the sidelight is too low；〃 Joan answered。 〃Besides； they've got
the sweeps out。 Don't you hear them？ They wouldn't be sweeping a big
vessel like the Martha。〃
〃Besides； the Martha has a gasoline enginetwenty…five horse…
power；〃 Tudor added。
〃Just the sort of a craft for us；〃 Joan said wistfully to Sheldon。 〃I really
must see if I can't get a schooner with an engine。 I might get a second…
hand engine put in。〃
〃That would mean the additional expense of an engineer's wages；〃 he
objected。
〃But it would pay for itself by quicker passages；〃 she argued； 〃and it
would be as good as insurance。 I know。 I've knocked about amongst
reefs myself。 Besides； if you weren't so mediaeval； I could be skipper
and save more than the engineer's wages。〃
He did not reply to her thrust； and she glanced at him。 He was
looking out over the water； and in the lantern light she noted the lines of
his facestrong； stern； dogged； the mouth almost chaste but firmer and
thinner…lipped than Tudor's。 For the first time she realized the quality of
his strength； the calm and quiet of it； its simple integrity and reposeful
determination。 She glanced quickly at Tudor on the other side of her。 It
was a handsomer face； one that was more immediately pleasing。 But she
did not like the mouth。 It was made for kissing； and she abhorred kisses。
This was not a deliberately achieved concept； it came to her in the form of
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a faint and vaguely intangible repulsion。 For the moment she knew a
fleeting doubt of the man。 Perhaps Sheldon was right in his judgment of
the other。 She did not know； and it concerned her little； for boats； and the
sea； and the things and happenings of the sea were of far more vital
interest to her than men； and the next moment she was staring through the
warm tropic darkness at the loom of the sails and the steady green of the
moving sidelight； and listening eagerly to the click of the sweeps in the
rowlocks。 In her mind's eye she could see the straining naked forms of
black men bending rhythmically to the work； and somewhere on that
strange deck she knew was the inevitable master…man； conning the vessel
in to its anchorage； peering at the dim tree…line of the shore； judging the
deceitful night…distances； feeling on his cheek the first fans of the land
breeze that was even then beginning to blow； weighing； thinking；
measuring； gauging the score or more of ever… shifting forces； through
which； by which； and in spite of which he directed the steady equilibrium
of his course。 She knew it because she loved it； and she was alive to it as
only a sailor could be。
Twice she heard the splash of the lead； and listened intently for the cry
that followed。 Once a man's voice spoke； low； imperative； issuing an
order； and she thrilled with the delight of it。 It was only a direction to the
man at the wheel to port his helm。 She watched the slight altering of the
course； and knew that it was for the purpose of enabling the flat…hauled
sails to catch those first fans of the land breeze； and she waited for the
same low voice to utter the one word 〃Steady！〃 And again she thrilled
when it did utter it。 Once more the lead splashed； and 〃Eleven fadom〃
was the resulting cry。 〃Let go！〃 the low voice came to her through the
darkness； followed by the surging rumble of the anchor…chain。 The
clicking of the sheaves in the blocks as the sails ran down； head… sails first；
was music to her； and she detected on the instant the jamming of a jib…
downhaul； and almost saw the impatient jerk with which the sailor must
have cleared it。 Nor did she take interest in the two men beside her till
both lights； red and green； came into view as the anchor checked the
onward way。
Sheldon was wondering as to the identity of the craft； while Tudor
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persisted in believing it might be the Martha。
〃It's the Minerva；〃 Joan said decidedly。
〃How do you know？〃 Sheldon asked； sceptical of her certitude。
〃It's a ketch to begin with。 And besides； I could tell anywhere the
rattle of her main peak…blocksthey're too large for the halyard。〃
A dark figure crossed the compound diagonally from the beach gate；
where whoever it was had been watching the vessel。
〃Is that you； Utami？〃 Joan called。
〃No； Missie； me Matapuu；〃 was the answer。
〃What vessel is it？〃
〃Me t'ink Minerva。〃
Joan looked triumphantly at Sheldon； who bowed。
〃If Matapuu says so it must be so；〃 he murmured。
〃But when Joan Lackland says so； you doubt；〃 she cried； 〃just as you
doubt her ability as a skipper。 But never mind； you'll be sorry some day
for all your unkindness。 There's the boat lowering now； and in five
minutes we'll be shaking hands with Christian Young。〃
Lalaperu brought out the glasses and cigarettes and the eternal whisky
and soda； and