"That iss vat you are ... yoost like all your mudder's kinfolk! Dey vas liars all! Und you inherit froom dem; not froom me, t'ank God! You haf learned but a little part of dis history, und that wr'rong! I took your mudder avay because her fadder vas going to marry her mit a man dot vas known to be der vor'rst blackguard in Europe, und she hated him, too. But I make me no excuses...." "Then," Applebo interrupted, "suppose you make me one for having so far forgotten yourself as to call me a liar. Otherwise, this interview must come to an end." Cried Heldstrom, in his great bull-whale voice: "Dis interview vill coom to an end ven I haf said my say! Do not enr'rage me, yoong man, or, son or no son, you may haf cause to be sorry. I call you a liar, und you are that! If you follow de _Shark_ because of me, vy do you not coom forward like a man long ago, and say, 'You are my fadder; I am your son!' I do not say that I vould be glad ... but, at least, I vould do my duty und you vould do yours! Vy do you follow und v'vatch und look und peer und pr'ry like a yellow cat v-vatching der cage of a bird? Vy do you anchor off und neffer coom aboard, der more so ven you vas invited by Captain Bell und Mr. Wood? Vy do you send dose sickening werses to my yoong ladies ... for I learn yesterday you do? Answer me, you fella ... vy do you do all dis if it iss for me dot you follow der _Shark_?" All of the colour faded from Applebo's face. He began to understand. But, while he caught the ugly reflection of what was in the mind of Heldstrom, he did not see how he was to answer him. How was he to make this rough sailor understand his silly sentimentality? And how could he explain his own sensitiveness in approaching him on the subject of their relationship? He hesitated, and Heldstrom, of course, took this hesitation as a sign of guilt, and the endeavour to search for some explanatory lie. His face grew black, and in contrast the piercing blue eyes appeared to pale. Perhaps they did actually pale as a consuming wrath contracted the pupils. He leaned forward and shook his heavy forefinger so close to Applebo's face that it almost struck him. "I tell you vy! Now I understand! It vas because of my little ger'rl ... Miss Hermione! Dot mor'rning at Shoal Harbour! Dis morning in der fog! Und how many mornings besides, I do not know...!" "_Silence!_" Applebo sprang to his feet. For all of his height, there was head room in the yawl's cabin to permit him to stand erect. The face which he turned to his father was bloodless, tense, with white teeth bared to the molars, while the heavy cords and muscle-bands of his neck stood out under the ivory skin. Heldstrom, too, hove himself upon his feet, and, for an instant, the two big men faced each other across the little table. Then Applebo sank back to his seat.