The Captain started to leave the bridge, but by old seafaring
habit he cast a keen glance at the sky. He saw the bright string
of code flags fluttering. He seemed startled.

"Are you signalling any one?" he asked.

"No one in particular. I thought it looked better to have a few
flags about."

"I daresay you're right. But better take them down if you speak a
ship. They're rather confusing."

"Confusing? I thought they were just to brighten things up."

"You have two different signals up. They read, Bubonic plague,
give me a wide berth. Am coming to your assistance."

Toward dinner time, when Gissing had left the wheel and was
humming a tune as he walked the bridge, the steward came to him.

"The Captain's compliments, sir, and would you take his place in
the saloon to-night? He says he's very busy writing, sir, and
would take it as a favour."

Gissing was always obliging. There was just a hint of conscious
sternness in his manner as he entered the Pomerania's beautiful
dining saloon, for he wished the passengers to realize that their
lives depended upon his prudence and sea-lore. Twice during the
meal he instructed the steward to bring him the latest barometer
reading; and after the dessert he scribbled a note on the back of