To emphasize his remarks, Boyle blew a big smoke ring, and shot several
smaller rings through it.
Elsie felt Christobal's critical eye on her; she was shading the
outlines of the map, and trusted that her head was bent sufficiently to
hide the tell-tale color which leapt to her face. But Courtenay wished
to hear more of this.
"I hope you do not credit everything my chief officer says about me,"
he said, glancing over her shoulder at the drawing. "Nor about
himself," he added, as she was too busy to look up. "To my knowledge,
he has refused the command of two ships since we both joined the
Kansas."
"Home orders!" cried Boyle, who was certainly beyond himself. Probably
he missed his regular vocal exercise owing to lack of a crew. "My
missus says to me, 'You just stick to Captain Courtenay, young
feller-me-lad. He's one of the get-rich-quick sort. P'raps you 'll
learn from him how to dodge Board of Trade inquiries.' You stand on
what I told you, Miss Maxwell. You remember? Commodore! Huh!"
Something must be done to stem the long-pent flood of Mr. Boyle's
gossip. Elsie turned on him desperately.
"How do you expect me to listen to you, and work at the same time?" she
said.
"Sorry," he answered, composing himself to sleep.
Courtenay glanced at the chronometer.
"I must be off," he announced. "Tollemache may need some help with his
bombs, and those Chileans require looking after."
Christobal, too, quitted the chart-room to visit his patients. He had
said very little while he sat there, and Elsie did not know whether to
laugh or cry at the tragic-comedy of her environment. She was only
certain of one thing--she would like to box Boyle's ears. She was
completely at a loss to account for his persistent efforts to drag in
references to their prior conversation. She dared not catechize him.
That would be piling up more difficulties for the future. But what
possessed him to blurt out such embarrassing details in the presence of
the two men whom she most wished to remain in ignorance of them?
She peeped at Boyle sideways. His eyes were closed, the cigar was
between his teeth, and he had a broad grin on his face. She could not
guess that the once taciturn chief officer of the Kansas was saying
to himself: "My godfather, how Pills glared! There will be trouble on this ship
about a woman before long, or I'm a Dutchman. An' didn't the skipper
rise at the fly, too! Huh!"
He uttered the concluding monosyllable aloud.
"Did you speak?" inquired Elsie, severely.
"Eh? No, Miss Maxwell."
"Oh, I thought you wanted to say something."
"Not a word. Too much talking makes my back stiff."
"Your physical peculiarities are amazing, Mr. Boyle."