It was almost dark when he went on deck. The wind was keen and chilly. It whistled through the broken windows of the wheel-house, and seemed to have in it a promise of bad weather. But a glance aloft and at the sky beyond the southern headland—Point _Kansas_, as it was called on board—reassured him. The far-flung arc overhead was cloudless. The stars of the southern hemisphere, vivid and bright, though less familiar than those of the north, were reflected in the black water. The ship was so still, the surroundings so peaceful, save for the plash of tiny waves created by the breeze, that he was almost startled when a soft voice came from the lower deck: “Where in the world have you been, Captain Courtenay? Joey is fretting for you, and I have carried him all over the ship in vain search.” His heart jumped with gladness. Elsie was awaiting him at the foot of the companion. Be sure he was by her side without needless delay. The dog wriggled in her arms, so she said: “I don’t think he ought to run about. His dear little paw is rather badly cut, and there may be more broken glass on the deck.” “I hope not, for our Chileans’ sake,” laughed Courtenay. “I heard Mr. Boyle telling them to sweep it up, and they were hard at work when I went to my cabin.” “Oh, is that where you hid yourself? No wonder I could not find you. Of course, Joey knew where you were. How stupid of me!” “Please don’t call yourself names, Elsie. You don’t deserve them. And, by the way, may I address you by your Christian name? It slipped out to-day unawares. Not that I feel like apologizing, because I don’t. There are times when the heart speaks, not the guarded tongue.” Luckily, the darkness covered the hot blush which leaped to her cheeks. She gave a nervous little laugh, and strove desperately to parry this wholly unexpected assault. “I shall be delighted if you always call me Elsie. It sounds friendly, and I think our circumstances warrant a true friendship.” “Excellent. I suppose you know that my name is Arthur?” “Yes, but I had no notion of that sort of exchange. You are the captain, and a very serious sort of captain at times. I feel like a little girl when you look at me and tell me not to be naughty. So ‘Elsie’ sounds all right, but I simply dare not call you ‘Arthur.’ Just imagine what a sensation it would create in the saloon. I should feel creepy all over. And hadn’t we better be—” “Elsie,” said he, with a tender note in his voice which thrilled her like a chord of exquisite music, “I want to tell you something. The knowledge is forced on me that there is another man on this ship who wishes to make you his wife. But I, too, love you, and I see no reason why I should stand aside for any man on God’s earth until you tell me with your own lips that you prefer him to me.”