Enough or not enough, this was the utmost we could get from him. His captain talked, and he talked, each of them in a civilly-cold way; but nothing more satisfactory came of it. Pym wound up by saying the young lady was his cousin, and he could take care of her without being interfered with. "Do you trust him, Johnny Ludlow?" asked Jack, as we came away. "I don't trust him on the whole; not a bit of it. But he seems to speak truth in saying she is with friends." And, as the days went on, bringing no tidings of Verena, Sir Dace Fontaine grew angry as a raging tiger. When a ship is going out of dock, she is more coquettish than a beauty in her teens. Not in herself, but in her movements. Advertised to sail to-day, you will be told she'll not start until to-morrow; and when to-morrow comes the departure will be put off until the next day, perhaps to the next week. Thus it was with the _Rose of Delhi_. From some uncompromising exigencies, whether connected with the cargo, the crew, the brokers, or any other of the unknown mysteries pertaining to ships, the day that was to have witnessed her departure--Thursday--did not witness it. The brokers, Freeman and Co., let it transpire on board that she would go out of dock the next morning. About mid-day Captain Tanerton presented himself at their office in Eastcheap. "I shall not sail to-morrow--with your permission," said he to Mr. James Freeman. "Yes, you will--if she's ready," returned the broker. "Gould says she will be." "Gould may think so; I do not. But, whether she be ready or not, Mr. Freeman, I don't intend to take her out to-morrow." The words might be decisive words, but the captain's tone was genial as he spoke them, and his frank, pleasant smile sat on his face. Mr. Freeman looked at him. They valued Captain Tanerton as they perhaps valued no other master in their employ, these brothers Freeman; but James had a temper that was especially happy in contradiction. "I suppose you'd like to say that you won't go out on a Friday!" "That's just it," said Jack. "You are superstitious, Captain Tanerton," mocked the broker. "I am not," answered Jack. "But I sail with those who are. Sailors are more foolish on this point than you can imagine: and I believe--I believe in my conscience--that ships, sailing on a Friday, have come to grief through their crew losing heart. No matter what impediment is met with--bad weather, accidents, what not--the men say at once it's of no use, we sailed on a Friday. They lose their spirit, and their energy with it; and I say, Mr. Freeman, that vessels have been lost through this, which might have otherwise been saved. I will not go out of dock to-morrow; and I refuse to do it in your interest as much as in my own." "Oh, bother," was all James Freeman rejoined. "You'll have to go if she's ready."