"Wait a bit, governor," he said, in a lower tone, arresting me by a gesture as I turned away. "Don't you think you are playing it a bit high? You are a cool one, I swear, and fly--there is nothing you are not fly to, I'll be bound! But two heads are better than one--you take me?--letting alone that it is every one for himself in this world. Do you rise to it?" "No, I don't rise to it," I answered, drawing back from his spirituous breath and leering eyes. He was more drunk than I had fancied. "You don't? Think again, mate," he said, almost as if he pleaded with me. "Don't play it too high." "Don't talk such confounded nonsense!" I retorted angrily. He looked at me a moment, a scowl darkening his face and not improving it. Then he answered, "All right, governor! All right! Pleasant dreams! and a pleasant waking at Carthagena!" "I have no doubt I shall enjoy both," I replied, "if you will have the goodness not to disturb me as you did last night!" He should not think he had escaped detection. "It is your turn now," he replied more soberly. "I don't know what you are up to now. I didn't disturb you last night." "Some one did! And some one uncommonly like you." "What did he do?" he asked, eyeing me with suspicion. "I startled him," I answered, "or I do not know what he would have done. As it was he did not do much. He took some biscuits." "Took some biscuits!" He pretended that he did not believe me, and he did it so well that I began to doubt. "You must have been dreaming, mate." "I could not dream the biscuits away," I retorted. The stroke went home. He stood thinking, drawing patterns on the table with his finger and a puddle of spilled water. Guilty or innocent, he did not seem ashamed, but puzzled and perplexed. Once or twice he glanced cunningly at me. But whether he wished to see how I took it, or suspected me of fooling him, I could not tell. "Good night!" I cried, losing patience at last; and I went to my cabin. The last I saw of him, he was still standing at the table, drawing patterns on it with his finger. I turned in at once, satisfied that after what had passed between us there would be no repetition of last night's disturbance. In a pleasant state between waking and sleeping I was aware of the tramp of feet overhead as the moorings were cast off. The first slow motion of the engines was followed by the familiar swish and wash of the water sliding by. The ship began to heel over a little. We had reached the open sea. After that I slept. I awoke suddenly, but in full possession of my senses. The cabin was still lit by the lamp. I guessed that it was a little after midnight; and "_O utinam!_" I sighed, "that I had not taken that cup of coffee after dinner!" My portmanteau too had got loose. I could hear it sliding about the floor, though, as I lay in the upper berth, I could not see it. I must set that to rights.