r08 FOR THE FLAG

With the evening a fresher breeze blew in through the
port-hole of my cabin. JI shut it, and since my door was
barred on the outside, the only thing I could do was to lie
down and sleep on the bosom of the Atlantic, to the
gentle oscillations of the Bdda.

The next day I rose at dawn, proceeded to make my
toilet, and when dressed I waited.

Suddenly I bethought me of ascertaining whether the
door of my cabin was fastened.

No! It wasnot. I pushed it open; I climbed up the
ladder and reached the deck.

In the stern, while the sailors were washing the deck,
two men, one of whom was the captain, were chatting.

The latter showed no surprise on seeing me, and pointed
me out by a nod to his companion.

The other, whom I had never seen, was an individual of
fifty ; hair and beard black, with threads of silver ; a shrewd,
ironical face, a quick eye, and an intelligent counte-
nance. He resembled the Greek type, and I had no longer
doubt that he was of Hellenic origin when I heard him
called Serké6—Serké, the engineer—by the £éa’s captain,
whose name is Spade. This name is probably derived
from the Italian Spada. So we have a Greek, an Italian,
a crew composed of men recruited from every corner of
the globe, embarked on a schooner with a Norwegian
name. This seems to me suspicious.

And Count d’Artigas, with his Spanish name and his
Asiatic type—where does he come from?

The captain and the ‘engineer conversed in low tones.