"_And not to talk too much about authority, or drink any more rum,_" prompted the savage astronomer. "And not to be too rumbumptious, or to get squiffy again," said Simpkins. "For," said the brutal geologist, "if you will agree to these terms, we shall be glad of your advice and assistance, Captain Prowse." "I'll think of it," returned the skipper sulkily. "All right," said the rude geologist, "take a day or two to think it over." "Oh, Lord," said Prowse hastily. "I've thought of it, and I agree." And when he came on deck the savage and ferocious scientific captains remarked in a friendly manner that it was a fine evening. "Damme," said the one-time skipper, "I'm blowed if _I_ ain't the crew of the _Kamma Funder_." THE REHABILITATION OF THE VIGIA. The mate or the _Palembang_ walked the weather side of the poop, and felt just then that he was full up to the back teeth of the mighty sea and all its works. He yearned for Leith Walk or Wapping; to lie on a hot dry beach would be heaven, for the hot wet south-west monsoon was blowing the _Palembang_ towards Bombay, and the Maldivhs were on the starboard beam. Jack Wilson propped his eyes open and cursed the slow passage of time towards midnight. As he peered down below at the lighted clock he was inclined to swear that the second mate had come out and stopped it. But presently it was five minutes to twelve, and to his disgust sleepiness passed away as his relief stumbled up the poop ladder and came aft. "Jerusalem, but it's dark," said the second greaser, as he looked up aloft and round about him. "Have the gas lit," growled Wilson, as he was going forward. "Sulky devil!" replied the second. "When do you have a civil word for any one?" This was all in the night's work, and no one was a penny the worse. Civility at midnight is often too dear to be bought from any one but an inferior; and Wilson and Green knew each other very well. The _Palembang_ was running with the wind on the port quarter, and for a quiet life the old lady was under shortened canvas. She went at it like an old dame in wind and snow; a reefed foresail represented picked-up petticoats; the stowed royals and topgallant-sails suggested that a hat with feathers had been replaced by a handkerchief. For the monsoon was blowing stiff that July night seven degrees to the north of the Line, and threatened to blow stiffer yet. As it was getting towards two o'clock, or four bells, the captain came on deck, and nodded at the binnacle when Green said: "Good-morning, sir." Then he spread his legs out and considered the dark universe for awhile. "It has waked up a bit since I went below, Mr. Green," he said presently; and, wanting no answer, he got none. The song of the wind in the rigging and the draught under the foot of the foresail were answer sufficient. There was a pleasing hiss alongside as the _Palembang_ shoved through the Indian Ocean and left a lighter wake behind.