She rang for the maid, who brought her tea and toast. Cécile was thoughtfully making her _petit déjeuner_ when there came a tap at her door, and Hermione, fully dressed in grey sweater and a green, homespun skirt, entered. "What have you been saying to Paula?" demanded Hermione, abruptly. "She's in her room sobbing her heart out." Cécile's face showed the keenest sorrow and sympathy. "Oh, Hermione..." she began, with her mouth full of toast, and then went on to tell what had occurred. Hermione listened, with her black eyebrows drawing a straight line across her deep, violet eyes. Her vital face hardened in a manner not pleasant to see in so young a girl. Cécile, glancing at her, grew actually frightened. "Hermione!" she protested. "Why do you look at me in that way? I did not tell Paula that she was not to have Huntington! No doubt, he is really in love with her ... and no longer cares a snap for me! But when she asked me if I cared for him, what was I to tell her?" "The truth," said Hermione, shortly. "But I did, did I not?" Hermione thrust out her chin. "No," said she. "You told her a lie!" And she turned abruptly on her heel and went on deck. The first person whom she saw was Captain Heldstrom, he having relieved the owner, who was joyously disporting himself in the galley. Heldstrom was peering into the fog, which was thinning out on all sides. The big Norwegian's beard and moustache were beaded with the moisture, and he looked like a hero of Wagnerian opera. "What are you looking for?" Hermione demanded. "For der Pilot-vish. Der lookout reported a little yawl on der poort bow; den der fog closed in again. I hope it vas he." "Why? On account of your bet?" "No. Der bet is nodding. But ve haf a good offing, und der tide iss setting like a mill-r'race onto Cape Sable. Der glass iss dropping, und it looks like a sout'easter, und it vould not be vell to be much nearer in." "First time I ever saw you worrying about the Pilot-fish," observed Hermione. "That is true. Since I haf seen him in der vater, svimmin' mit you ... dere is somet'ing about that yoong man ... I do not know." He passed his hand across his eyes, as though to clear his vision. "Well," said Hermione; "what about him?" "That is yoost vat I cannot tell. But his face clings in my mind like a gr'reen hand in der r'rigging." He glanced at Hermione, and something in the girl's face caught his attention and held it. "Vat is der matter?" he asked. This was exactly what Hermione wanted. She led him to the break of the quarter-deck, and there, out of all ear-shot, told him of the complication between Cécile, Paula, and Huntington Wood, frankly concluding with her own unmaidenly observation to Cécile. Captain Heldstrom listened, with his heavy brows knit.