It was easily done, the cane legs gliding like rockers over the well-polished deck, and the lad returned to his place to turn the winder where he had stood the line to dry. This process was going on rapidly, and he stopped bending over the apparatus to examine the hook and stout snood, to see that it had not been frayed by the fish's teeth. This done, he turned to speak to Fitz again, and smiled to himself. "Well," he said, "it doesn't take him long to go to sleep," for the tired midshipman's eyes were tightly closed and he was taking another instalment of that which was to give him back his strength. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. A QUESTION OF DUTY. The wind was paradoxical. A succession of calms and light breezes from adverse quarters--in short, as bad as could be for the schooner's expedition. But, on the other hand, the days grew into weeks in a climate that might be called absolutely perfect, and from his first coming on deck and helping in the capture of the bonito, Fitz Burnett advanced by steps which became long strides on his journey back to health. With the disappearance of suffering, away went all bad temper with the irritation that had caused it. The boy had lain in his berth and thought every night before going to sleep about his position and his helplessness, and had fully come to the conclusion that though the people among whom he was, skipper, officers and men, were in a way enemies, he could not be held accountable for anything they did, and as they had treated him throughout with the greatest kindness, it would be ungracious on his part to go, as he termed it, stalking about on stilts and making himself as disagreeable to them as he would be to himself. "Old Reed's quite right, after all," he said, "though I don't like it a bit. I must make the best of my position. But only let me get half a chance, and I shall be off." The boy then, as he rapidly recovered his strength, went about the deck amongst the men, and became what he termed extremely thick with Poole. There were times when he felt that they were becoming great friends, for Poole was a thoroughly intelligent lad who had had a good deal of experience for one of his years; but in these early stages of his recovery, so sure as there was a little change in the weather, with the damp or wind, twinges of pain and depression of spirits attacked the midshipman; the physical suffering introduced the mental, and for a few hours perhaps Fitz would feel, to use his own words, as disagreeable as could be. It was during one of these attacks that the idea came back very strongly that he was not doing his duty as an officer. He worked himself up into the feeling that he was behaving in a cowardly way now that he had great opportunities, and that if he did not seize one of these it would be to his disgrace.