We were mostly silent when we were together after that. How hard I tried to think of a common topic to discuss, and could not! So did he. But while I had nothing to do but to think, he was terribly preoccupied with the condition of the ship. She had recovered to a certain extent, and was able to stagger on again, but she was a living wreck, all splintered and patched, and the difficulty of keeping the water down was greater than before. The pumps were always clanking, and the carpenter hammering, and the sailmaker putting canvas plasters over weak places. The whole ship's company were glum and weary, and the passengers--wet, ill-fed, and wretched--complained loudly all the time, indifferent as to how much they added to the poor captain's cares. He, though firm with everybody, never lost his temper, or seemed to give way to the depression that must at times have weighed him down. He was worthy to command who could so command himself--worthy to be a sailor, which is the noblest calling in the world. As for me--well, it was no credit to me that I, of all on board, was satisfied to be there, and consequently happy. I kept a serene and smiling face to cheer him. It was the least that I could do. And it did cheer him. To my unspeakable comfort I was assured of that, though he did not say so. I could see it in his face, and hear it in his voice, when now and then he came to sit beside me, evidently for rest and peace. "And so," he said, on one of these occasions, speaking in an absent-minded way--"and so you are not nervous with me? Well, I hope I shall be able to justify your trust." "You will," I said calmly. "You could not help it." "Heaven knows!" he ejaculated. "The glass is falling again, fast." "Never mind the glass. It is always falling." "I wouldn't, if I had any sort of proper ship under me. But this----she isn't fit for women to sail in." "If she is good enough for you," I remarked cheerfully, "she is good enough for me." "But she isn't. I don't ask for much--at my age--but I do want a ship of some sort, not a sieve. Oh, dear! oh, dear!"--looking round him with a restless sigh--"we shall be months getting to Melbourne at this rate." "I don't care," I said, "if we are years." He made no comment on this statement, which I blushed to perceive was a mistake; and I hastened to remind him that Edward's illness must have been over long ago. Then he began, in an abrupt manner, to ask me how I thought the passengers were bearing the trial of short rations which he had been compelled to lay upon them.