For a moment the little group of men remained standing in the doorway, staring at the girl open-mouthed. Then abruptly and with one accord they left the cabin and she heard the tread of their heavy sea-boots going up the companion-way. Having given the steward directions concerning medicine and a supply of hot-water bottles so long as the patient remained in the cold stage of the fever, Dora Fletcher went up on deck. The weather had moderated considerably, but night was coming on, and it was quite possible that the hurricane might spring up afresh. To her surprise, she found groups of men standing about the after-deck, though their presence in that part of the ship had been expressly forbidden by the Captain.

"What are you men doing here?" she demanded sharply.

They stared at her with sullen sheepishness, but no one answered.

"Get for'ard to your quarters at once and don't let me find a man aft of the bridge unless he has some duty to perform," she went on after a pause.

But the men did not stir, and a low murmur, incoherent but menacing, reached the girl's ears. Suddenly the bos'n, who had been standing by, stepped up to her.

"It's like this 'ere, Miss," he said, in a voice that was half-apologetic and half-defiant, "we want to know where we are, we do. The skipper's took with fever, the mate ain't 'ere, and the second's crippled. Who's going to navigate this packet back to Singapore and take the old man's place?"

"I have already told you that I am."

"I know, Miss, but we didn't take it as you was serious."

"Well, you can take it that I'm serious now."

The bos'n shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, and glanced doubtfully at the sullen figures of the men.

"I'll tell them what you say, Miss," he said at last, "but I don't know how they'll take it. You see," he went on hastily, "maybe some of 'em aren't partial to taking orders from a woman, which don't seem natural, as you may say."

"See here, bos'n," answered the girl, raising her voice so that all could hear, "can you, or any other man on board, navigate this ship to Singapore?"

"No, Miss, I can't say as any of us could."

"Well, I can. I'm a practical navigator, and I will undertake to bring the Hawk safely into port. But if there's a man among you who thinks he can do it, let him take command."

"Of course that alters it a bit," answered the bos'n thoughtfully, "we didn't know you could navigate, Miss."

"You don't suppose I should propose to take command otherwise?"

"That's what we was wondering. You see"—the bos'n became confidential—"some of us 'ave sailed in ships where the skipper's 'ad 'is wife aboard, and it's generally she what's done the bossing. Of course we know you ain't this skipper's wife, but all the same we thought as 'ow you might be wanting to try your 'and like."

"Well, you see the position now," said the girl. "Please explain it to the men, and let them understand that, while I am in charge of this ship, I am Captain and will be obeyed."

Without quite realising it, she had copied Calamity's curt and decisive manner, and this, together with the fact that they were really helpless in the matter, was not without its effect on the men. After a short discussion with the bos'n, they trooped off to their quarters, some sullen, others pulling their forelocks as they passed the girl.

"We'll carry out your orders, if you'll take the ship fair and square into Singapore," said the bos'n.

"Then that's agreed; I'll do my part as long as the crew do theirs."

"Very good, Miss," answered the bos'n, and he went for'ad in the wake of the men.

Feeling decidedly relieved, Dora Fletcher was about to go on the bridge when she caught sight of McPhulach standing at the fiddley door, having apparently just come off watch. Seeing her, he came forward, rubbing his hands on a piece of oily cotton-waste.

"You must have been getting a rough time of it down below," she said by way of greeting.

"Rough, d'ye ca' it," he answered; "if I wasna a guid Presbyterian like me fairther before me, I'd be a convairted sinner the noo. Bradlaugh himsel' wouldna hae denied hell if he'd been below during the last four an' twenty hoors."

The girl nodded sympathetically.

"I want to have a few minutes' chat with you, if you can spare the time," she said.

"I'm at ye'r deesposal."

"Then please come into the chart-room. I don't want to leave the bridge longer than I can help."

"Leave the bridge!" echoed McPhulach in astonishment. "D'ye——"

"Please come at once," interrupted the girl, and led the way up to the bridge. After first ascertaining that Calamity was not there, the engineer followed, wondering, as well he might, what such an extraordinary invitation portended. When they had entered the chart-room the girl shut the door and pointed to a seat.

"Have you heard about the Captain?" she asked.

"Haird what?" inquired McPhulach.

"Then you haven't. He is down with a severe attack of malaria; and is quite incapable of doing anything."

"Ye dinna say!"

"It's quite true, he had to be carried off the bridge half an hour ago."

"Weel, weel," murmured the engineer, "he always was a michty quare mon."

"And Smith, as I suppose you know, has broken his leg."

"Aye, ane of the firemen was tellin' me."

"Therefore," she went on, "I have decided to take command of the Hawk, since no one, except myself, is capable of navigating her."

She had expected the engineer to show some sign of surprise, even resentment, and was prepared to combat it. But, for all the emotion McPhulach exhibited, she might have been telling him that she had decided to alter her time of getting up or going to bed. He did not even appear interested, but, stooping down, proceeded to take off one of his boots.

"It's verra bad policy to buy ye'r boots second-hand unless ye'r sairtain they'll fit," he remarked, and then remained silently staring at a hole in his sock as though it were a subject for long and earnest meditation.

"I suppose you think I am taking a great deal on myself," she said, wishing to force some comment from him.

The engineer jerked his head in a manner which might have been a nod or a shake, agreement or disagreement. His eyes were still fixed on the gaping aperture in his sock. But at last he spoke, slowly and incisively as a man might who had come to a momentous conclusion after much mental tribulation.

"Yon's the thaird pair o' sacks I've holed at the first wearin'. Gin I go on at this rate I'll no hae a pair to me name by the time we reach Singapore."

"I don't believe you've been listening to a word I've said!" exclaimed the girl, goaded to exasperation.

McPhulach looked up with an expression of mingled surprise and pain on his face.

"Wasna ye tellin' me that ye were goin' to tak' command o' the Hawk?"

"Yes."

"Then ye were wrang in saying I didna hear ye," he answered triumphantly.

"The point I want to get at," said the girl, trying hard to be patient, "is this. Can I depend on your support and assistance if necessary? I have made it all right with the crew. Will you be responsible for your men down below?"

The engineer did not answer immediately. Apparently he was turning the matter over in his mind.

"Ye'll be takin' upon ye'rsel' the privileges and powers of a skipper, I'm tae understand?" he inquired at last.

"Yes, since I shall be responsible for the navigation."

Again McPhulach paused meditatively, and the girl noticed, with a feeling of apprehension, that his eyes wandered towards the hole in his sock. But this time it did not monopolise his thoughts.

"Calamity's no said anything tae ye consairning mesel', I suppose?" he asked.

"Certainly not," she replied, rather surprised at the question. "In fact, I've had no opportunity to discuss anything with him."

"Because," continued the engineer, "he's as good as promised me a rise of a poond a month in recogneetion of me sairvices. But I've heard naething aboot it syn."

"I know nothing about that. It's a matter for the Captain to consider when he returns to duty."

"Nae, nae, it isna," protested McPhulach. "The captain's the captain whether he wears skirts or breeks. I'd like ye, in ye'r capacity of skipper of the Hawk, to confairm that promise of an extra poond a month."

"I will undertake that you shall have the extra money so long as I am in command, even if I have to pay it myself," answered the girl.

"Guid enough. Gin ye hae a bit o' paper handy, meybe ye'd no objec' to putting it doon in writing. I'm no dootin' ye'r word, mind ye, but 'twould be mair satisfactory to hae it in black and white, if ye ken me."

He drew a fountain-pen from a pocket beneath his dungarees and the girl found a piece of paper in one of the table drawers. She took the pen from McPhulach, and, hastily scribbling a few lines, handed it to him.

"Will that do?" she asked.

The engineer took the paper and read it with extreme care. It was to the effect that, during her command of the Hawk, Dora Fletcher agreed that Phineas McPhulach, chief engineer of that vessel, should receive a pound a month extra pay.

"Aye," he murmured, handing it back to her, "ye'll be guid enough tae sign it, please."

The girl did so, and McPhulach waved it gently to and fro to dry the ink.

"So ye've made ye'r intentions known tae the crew," he remarked.

"Yes."

"An' hoo did they tak' it?"

"Not very well at first. I shouldn't be surprised if some of them tried to make trouble, especially as they know we have treasure aboard."

"Aye, I shouldna be sairprised. Sic an ungodly lot o' heathen I've never sailed wi' before. But ye're a michty plucky lassie. Mind, ye're no me ideal of a woman, but gin it wasna that I'm a wee bit confused in me matrimonial obligations I dinna say that I wouldna marry ye mesel'."

"It's good of you, I'm sure."

"Nae, nae, dinna thank me," answered McPhulach hastily, "I wasna meanin' to propose tae ye. It jest crossed me mind like that ye'd mak' a guid wife gin ye was properly trained." He rose to his feet and yawned. "I'm for turnin' in," he said, "so I'll be wishin' ye guid nicht, Miss Fletcher."

"Good-night," she answered, and the engineer left the chart-room. When he had gone the girl took from a drawer a chart, pencil, and parallel rulers, and, sitting down, marked out the ship's course. This done, she wrote up the log and then stepped out on to the bridge, just as two relief quartermasters came up to take the wheel over.

"I shall only want one man at the wheel now," she said. "The storm, I think, has passed over."

A little later on, when she was taking off her sea-boots in the chart-room preparatory to lying down, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said.

It was McPhulach, who, with an oilskin over his pyjamas, stood at the door.

"I jest wanted to mak' sairtain, Miss Fletcher, that ye didna misunderstand me a whiles back," he said anxiously.

"Misunderstand what?" she asked in surprise.

"Weel, I'd like tae mak' it clear that I didna propose tae ye. I wouldna like ye tae attach any false hope to what I said aboot marryin' ye mesel' gin I was able. It were jest a wee bit joke, ye'll ken."

She reassured him concerning her intentions, and the engineer, with a sigh of relief, returned to his bunk.