The irony of this almost extorted a true statement of the case from Hermione. But she saw that Cécile had plainly had enough emotion for one séance. "Go to bed, dear," said she. "It's nearly five bells. Papa must be making a night of it. You will sleep now, I am sure." Cécile kissed her, then drifted, like a very lovely and dishevelled ghost, out into the dim-lit corridor. A few hours later, when Hermione went on deck for her morning row, the fog was so dense that it gave her an impression of being under water, and very soapy water at that. Heldstrom, who never appeared to sleep, greeted her with a shake of the head. "Not this morning, yoong lady," said he. "Go back to bed." "Oh, please..." begged Hermione. "I love to row around in the fog." Heldstrom assumed an expression of severity. "Und I love not to haf you!" said he. "Vat if you r'row str'raight out to sea, and keep on Growing? Vat vould your fadder say to me for losing der skiff?" Hermione laughed. "You are not very flattering to yourself as a teacher, Uncle Chris," said she. "If I were to do a landlubber trick like that, I'd deserve to get lost! What do you take me for, a Sunday picknicker? Give me a dory-compass." Heldstrom was evidently shaken. He took tremendous pride in Hermione's nautical abilities. "You are forever saying that I'm a better sailor than anybody aboard," said Hermione. "Now prove it. You have sent the dinghy ashore...." She glanced at the boat-boom. Heldstrom grinned. "That proves nodding. If a square-head gets lost who gifs a hang? Dere are plenty more. Und dinghys, too. But dere iss only von Hermione in all der vorld." Hermione saw that the old sailor was weakening fast. She slipped to his side, threw one arm over his shoulder, and raising herself on tiptoes, dropped a light kiss on the weather-beaten cheek. "Please, Uncle Chris," she whispered, "or I'll think that all you say about my seamanship is just a bluff!" Christian Heldstrom threw up his great arms like a drowning man. "By Jingo!" growled he, "vat's der use? Take your boat. Take all der boats...." He turned to the grinning and delighted quartermaster. "Miss Hermione's skiff!" said he, gruffly. He himself placed the dory-compass in the sternsheets. "Der landing bears sout'east by sout'," said Heldstrom. "So we bear from der landing ... what?" "Nor'east by nothe..." said Hermione, with a laugh. "Would you like to hear me say my letters?" "You try to sass me? Ven you hear _dong ... dong ... dong ... dong_ ... steady like dis on der ship's bell, that iss we." "And when you hear _bang!_ and a square-foot of paint off the ship's side," laughed Hermione, "that am I...!"