Mr. Watts was both charmed and surprised when the friendly skipper joined in the concluding lines in his own language. But his pleasure was short-lived. Coke's inflamed visage glowered into the mess room. "Sink me if you ain't a daisy!" he roared, pouncing on a three-quarters filled bottle of rum. "D'you fancy we're goin' to land you at Maceio cryin' drunk? No, sir, not this time. Over it goes, an' if you ain't dam careful, over you go after it!" Watts could have wept without the artificial stimulus of the rum. To see good liquor slung into the sea in that fashion--well, it was a sin, that's wot it was! But Coke's furious eye quelled him; and revel and song ceased. Above, on the bridge, Hozier smiled sourly at the squall which had so suddenly beset the fair argosy of the convivial-minded Watts. He tried to invest the incident with an excess of humor. Any excuse would serve to still certain disquieting doubts that were springing into alarming activity. Had he gone the best way to work in allaying Iris's conscience-stricken qualms? Was he justified in adopting such a bold line with De Sylva? Could it be possible--no, he refused to harbor any mean thought of Iris. She loved him, he was sure; his love for her was at once a torment and an excruciating bliss, and both of these wearing sensations sadly detracted from the efficiency of the officer of the watch. So our distracted Philip pulled himself up sharply, paced back and forth between port and starboard, and surveyed ship, binnacle, and horizon with alert vigilance. On the fore-deck groups of sailors and firemen belonging to both vessels were fraternizing. There could be little room for speculation as to the subject of their broken talk. It was of De Sylva, of Brazil's new dictator, of the gold he would control when he became President again. The slow-moving Teutonic mind was beginning to assimilate the notion that there was money in this escapade. That the tatterdemalion then closeted with the _Unser Fritz's_ captain could obtain a certified check for a million sterling, and twenty-five times as many millions of francs, and even then remain a man of means, was unbelievable; but if he regained power, that was different. _Ende gut, alles gut_. There might be pickings in it. Soon after sunset Iris reappeared. She walked on the after deck with San Benavides, and seemed to be listening with great attention to something he was telling her. Hozier was often compelled to look that way in order to make certain that the _Sao Geronimo_ was not overhauling the ship in one of her circling flights over the wide channel. He wondered what in the world San Benavides was saying that his chatter should be so interesting, and he acknowledged with a pang that Iris was deliberately avoiding his own occasional glances in her direction.