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 CHAPTER XXVII

'THE BASHFUL MAID'

If Captain George kept a log, as is probable, or Eugène Beaudésir a diary, as is possible, I have no intention of copying it. In the history of individuals, as of nations, the exception is Stir, the rule Stagnation. There are long links in the Silver Cord, smooth, polished, uniform, one exactly like the other, ere its sameness is varied by the carving of a boss or the flash of a gem. It is only here and there that life-like figures and spirit-stirring scenes start from the dead surface of the Golden Bowl. Perhaps, when both are broken, neither brilliancy nor workmanship, but sterling worth of metal, shall constitute the true value of each.

'The Bashful Maid' found her share of favouring winds and baffling breezes; trim and weatherly, she made the best of them all. Her crew, as they gained confidence in their skipper and became well acquainted amongst themselves, worked her to perfection. In squally weather, she had the great advantage of being over-manned, and could therefore carry the broadest surface of canvas it was possible to show. After a few stormy nights all shook into their places, and every man found himself told off to the duty he was best able to perform. The late Captain of Musketeers had the knack of selecting men, and of making them obey him. His last-joined hands were perhaps the best of his whole ship's company. Bottle-Jack became boatswain's mate, Smoke-Jack gunner, and Slap-jack captain of the foretop. These three were still fast friends and sworn adherents of Beaudésir. The latter, though he