her hands, her thoughts apparently far away.  Strange as it may seem her obvious indifference hurt me oddly, my only comprehension being that she did not in the least care; that in fact she had already entirely dismissed me from her mind.  This supposition, whether true or false, instantly hardened me to my fate, and I stared at Sanchez, meeting his eyes fairly, at once angered by the sneer on his lips and the open insult of his manner.  He turned toward her, fingering a cheroot, and said something; but, though she answered, her head remained motionless, her eyes searching the shore indifferently.  A figure or two appeared along the summit of the bank, voices calling to Fairfax, who stood up as he replied, ending the conversation with a wave of the hand to Sam, who had taken position at the wheel.  The latter began shouting orders in a shrill voice.  Carr cast off, and, with the negro and myself at the halliards, the mainsail rose to the caps, while we began gliding out from the shore into the deeper water.  By the time we had hoisted the jib, and made all secure, we were out far enough to feel the full force of the stiff breeze, the Adele careening until her rail was awash, the white canvas soaring above us against the misty blue of the sky.

There was little to be done after the ropes had been coiled away, and we were fairly out into the broader reaches of the Bay.  The wind held steady, requiring no shifting of canvas, so Sam, having dispatched the negro below to prepare lunch, and stationed Carr forward as lookout, called me aft to the wheel.  He was a rather pleasant-faced fellow, yellow as saffron, with rings in his ears, and a wide mouth perpetually grinning.

“Massa Fairfax he say you real sailorman,” he began, looking me over carefully, with a nod of his head toward the group at the rail.  “Dat so?”

“Yes; I have been a number of years at sea.”

“Dat what he say; dat he done bought yer fer dat reason mostly.  Ah reckon den ye kin steer dis boat?”

“I certainly can.”

“So?  Den Ah’s sure goin’ fer ter let yer try right now.  Yer take hol’, while Ah stand by a bit.”

I took his place, grasping the spokes firmly, and he stood aside, watching every movement closely, as I held the speeding sloop steadily up to the wind, the spray pouring in over the dipping rail forward.  The grin on his lips broadened.

“What is the course?” I asked curiously.

“’Cross ter dat point yonder—­see, whar de lone tree stan’s; we done ’round dat ‘bout tree hunder’ yards out, an’ then go straight ’way north.”

“You use no chart?”

He burst into a guffaw, as though the question was a rare joke.

“No, sah; I nebber done saw one.”

“But surely you must steer by compass?”

“Dar is a little one somewhar on board, and Ah done ain’t seed it fer mor ’n a yare, Ah reckon.  ’Tain’t no use enyhow.  Whut we steer by is landmarks.  Ah sure does know de Chesapeake.  Yer ever bin up de Bay?”