It was Laura who was cured the quickest. She suddenly discovered what a beautiful deep cave her armpit made, and decided to keep fairies in it in future. For some time she could think of nothing else. v Captain Jonsen called suddenly to José to take the wheel, and went below for his telescope. Then, buttressing his hip against the rail, and extending the shade over the object-glass, he stared fixedly at something almost in the eye of the setting sun. Emily, in a gentle mood, wandered up to him, and stood, her side just touching him. Then she began lightly rubbing her cheek on his coat, as a cat does. Jonsen lowered the glass and tried his naked eye, as if he had more trust in it. Then he explored with the glass once more. What was that business-like-looking sail, tall and narrow as a pillar? He swept his eye round the rest of the horizon: it was empty: only that single threatening finger, pointing upwards. Jonsen had chosen his course with care to avoid all the ordinary tracks of shipping at that time of year. Especially he had chosen it to avoid the routine-passages of the Jamaica Squadron from one British island to another. This--it had no business here: no more than he had himself. Emily put her arm round his waist and gave it a slight hug. ‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Do let me look.’ Jonsen said nothing, continuing to stare with concentration. ‘_Do_ let me look!’ said Emily. ‘I haven’t ever looked through a telescope, ever!’ Jonsen abruptly snapped the glass to, and looked down at her. His usually expressionless features were stirred from their roots. He lifted one hand and gently began to stroke her hair. ‘Do you love me?’ he asked. ‘Mm,’ assented Emily. Later she added, with a wriggle, ‘You’re a darling.’ ‘If it was to help me, would you do something ... very difficult?’ ‘Yes, but _do_ let me have a look through your telescope, because I haven’t, not ever, and I do so want to!’ Jonsen gave a weary sigh, and sat down on the cabin-top. What _on Earth_ were children’s heads made of, inside? ‘Now listen,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you seriously.’ ‘Yes,’ said Emily, trying to hide her extreme discomfort. Her eye plaintively searched the deck for something to hold it. He pressed her against his knee in an attempt to win her attention. ‘If bad, cruel men came and wanted to kill me and take you away, what would you do?’ ‘Oh, how horrid!’ said Emily. ‘Will they?’ ‘Not if you help me.’ It was unbearable. With a sudden leap she was astride his knees, her arms round his neck and her hands pressing the back of his head. ‘I wonder if you make a good Cyclops?’ she said; and holding his head firmly laid her nose to his nose, her forehead to his forehead, both staring into each other’s eyes, an inch apart, till each saw the other’s face grow narrow and two eyes converge to one large, misty eye in the middle.