Page:The Plutocrat (1927).pdf/98



HEN he came on deck the next morning at eleven, there ran by the ship a sea of turquoise encrusted with innumerable twinklings of foam opalescent in sunshine. The air, sprung from some aromatic source in the south, was mellow yet invigorating; and Ogle began to regret that already the "Duumvir" was well into the "third day out." But not the weather alone brought about this change in sentiment; indeed, it was not the weather principally; for his thought was less of the increasing balminess than of a fellow-passenger whose acquaintance he had not yet made, though only nine short days were left of their voyaging in company. Macklyn was no longer the only poet on board; the playwright had become his rival, and one reason for Ogle's late appearance on deck lay upon the writing-desk in his cabin—an unfinished ode beginning, "O still and stately lady in burnished gold enhelmed." Thus there had been trouble with this poem from the beginning on account of his obstinacy about the word