"No, sir." Toby stirred uneasily. The vessel pitched to a sudden slant and Saltash braced himself, protecting the fair head from a blow against the woodwork behind him. "I'm going to put you to bed in my bunk here," he said. "You've got to have a decent night's rest. Did Murray look you out any spare slops? I told him to." "Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. But I couldn't sleep in your bunk, sir,--please, sir--indeed, sir!" Toby, still held by the sheltering arm, waxed incoherent, almost tearful. Saltash pulled him up short. "You'll do as I tell you--now and always," he said, with royal finality. "You've put yourself in my hands, and you'll have to put up with the consequences. Got that?" "Yes, sir," said Toby meekly. "Then don't forget it!" said Saltash. Toby subsided without further protest. Perhaps the brandy helped to make him quiescent, or perhaps it was only the realization of his utter weakness and dependence; but from that moment he was as submissive as if he had been indeed the small captive animal to which his new owner had likened him. At Saltash's behest and with his help, he presently crept back to his own cabin to divest himself of his hotel-livery and don the very roomy suit of pajamas that Murray the steward had served out to him. Then, barefooted, stumbling, and shivering, he returned to where Saltash leaned smoking in the narrow dressing-room, awaiting him. Saltash's dark face wore a certain look of grimness. He bent without words and lifted the shrinking figure in his arms. Ten seconds later Toby sank down in a berth as luxurious as any ever carried by private yacht. He was still shivering though a grateful warmth came about him as Saltash tucked him in. He tried to murmur thanks, but ended with a quivering chin and silence. "Go to sleep, you little ass!" commanded Saltash. And so at last Toby slept, the deep, unstirring sleep of exhaustion, utterly unconscious of his surroundings, unaware of the man who came in and out watching that unchanging repose, sublimely oblivious of all observation, sunk in a slumber so remote that it might have been the last long rest of all. Saltash spent the night on the velvet couch under the closed porthole, dozing occasionally and always awakening with a jerk as the roll of the vessel threatened to pitch him on to the floor of the cabin. It was not a comfortable means of resting but he endured it in commendable silence with now and then a grimace which said more than words. And the little waif that the gods had flung to him slept in his bunk all through the long hours as peacefully as an effigy upon a tomb. CHAPTER V DISCIPLINE The storm spent itself before they reached Gibraltar, and Toby emerged smiling from his captivity below. He still wore the brown and gold hotel-livery as there was nothing else on board to fit him, but from Gibraltar a small packet of notes was dispatched to Antonio by Saltash in settlement of the loan.