“Does this remind you of Batavia, Mr. Brown?” It was a casual question, pleasantly put, and I saw no harm in it. It was the new man, Smith, who asked it. Why had he hit upon Batavia? Judging by his reception of it, Mr. Brown saw nothing pleasant in the question, or in the seemingly harmless manner of the questioner. He turned sharply, and his voice was like ice. “Batavia? No. Why should it?” “I thought,” Smith replied, his voice showing that he was smiling, “that perhaps you might remember a pleasant evening—something like this one—that you spent there some years ago.” Mr. Brown turned completely around toward Smith. He did not reply for an instant, but when he did― {238} “My man,” he said, “I do not know you. But you may as well understand me clearly. I am the second mate of this ship, and I shall do whatever seems to me necessary to maintain my position and enforce my authority. Remember that; anything whatever. Go forward.” “Yes, sir,” said Smith. He was actually laughing, but silently. I could tell by his voice, and so could Mr. Brown, of course; but the man’s manner was perfectly respectful. “Of course you will. In your place I would do the same. You would be a fool not to, and I should say that you were never a fool.” “Go forward,” Mr. Brown repeated curtly, “and go now.” He went without further words. I could hear him chuckling as he went. Mr. Brown stood looking after him; then he moved slowly aft, while I mused upon what I had heard. It did not take long for me to put two and two together. Smith, or whatever his name was, must have been with Mr. Brown in Batavia on that night when he got those scars I had seen; it was not so very unlikely that he was the man who had inflicted them. They had recognized each other, but Mr. Brown chose not to admit it. If I was right, there was the basis for a pretty quarrel, but such quarrels are not pretty when they are on your own ship. I did not like to think of it and of what might come of it. {239} CHAPTER XXV