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'I've half a mind to try,' I said.

'We want another chart now,' and he pulled down a second yet more stained and frayed than the first. 'We had a splendid time then exploring the Zuyder Zee, its northern part at least, and round those islands which bound it on the north. Those are the Frisian Islands, and they stretch for 120 miles or so eastward. You see, the first two of them, Texel and Vlieland, shut in the Zuyder Zee, and the rest border the Dutch and German coasts.' _[See Map A]_

'What's all this?' I said, running my finger over some dotted patches which covered much of the chart. The latter was becoming unintelligible; clean-cut coasts and neat regiments of little figures had given place to a confusion of winding and intersecting lines and bald spaces.

'All _sand,_' said Davies, enthusiastically. 'You can't think what a splendid sailing-ground it is. You can explore for days without seeing a soul. These are the channels, you see; they're very badly charted. This chart was almost useless, but it made it all the more fun. No towns or harbours, just a village or two on the islands, if you wanted stores.'

'They look rather desolate,' I said.

'Desolate's no word for it; they're really only gigantic sand-banks themselves.'

'Wasn't all this rather dangerous?' I asked.

'Not a bit; you see, that's where our shallow draught and flat bottom came in--we could go anywhere, and it didn't matter running aground--she's perfect for that sort of work; and she doesn't really _look_ bad either, does she?' he asked, rather wistfully. I suppose I hesitated, for he said, abruptly:

'Anyway, I don't go in for looks.'

He had leaned back, and I detected traces of incipient absentmindedness. His cigar, which he had lately been lighting and relighting feverishly--a habit of his when excited--seemed now to have expired for good.

'About running aground,' I persisted; 'surely that's apt to be dangerous?'

He sat up and felt round for a match.

'Not the least, if you know where you can run risks and where you can't; anyway, you can't possibly help it. That chart may look simple to you'--('simple!' I thought)--'but at half flood all those banks are covered; the islands and coasts are scarcely visible, they are so low, and everything looks the same.' This graphic description of a 'splendid cruising-ground' took away my breath. 'Of course there _is_ risk sometimes--choosing an anchorage requires care. You can generally get a nice berth under the lee of a bank, but the tides run strong in the channels, and if there's a gale blowing--'

"Didn't you ever take a pilot?' I interrupted.

'Pilot? Why, the whole point of the thing'--he stopped short--'I did take one once, later on,' he resumed, with an odd smile, which faded at once.

'Well?' I urged, for I saw a reverie was coming.

'Oh! he ran me ashore, of course. Served me right. I wonder what the weather's doing'; he rose, glanced at the aneroid, the clock, and the half-closed skylight with a curious circular movement, and went a step or two up the companion-ladder, where he remained for several minutes with head and shoulders in the open air.

There was no sound of wind outside, but the Dulcibella had begun to move in her sleep, as it were, rolling drowsily to some taint send of the sea, with an occasional short jump, like the start of an uneasy dreamer.

'What does it look like?' I called from my sofa. I had to repeat the question.

'Rain coming,' said Davies, returning, 'and possibly wind; but we're safe enough here. It's coming from the sou'-west; shall we turn in?'

'We haven't finished your cruise yet,' I said. 'Light a pipe and tell me the rest.'

'All right,' he agreed, with more readiness than I expected.

'After Terschelling--here it is, the third island from the west--I pottered along eastward.' _[See Map A]_

'I?'

'Oh! I forgot. Morrison had to leave me there. I missed him badly. but I hoped at that time to get--to join me. I could manage all right single-handed, but for that sort of work two are much better than one. The plate's beastly heavy; in fact, I had to give up