Here at least was the gage thrown down, and battle offered; he who

should speak next would bring the matter to an issue there and then; all

knew it to be so and hung back; and for many seconds by the cabin clock,

the trio sat motionless and silent.

Then came an interruption, welcome as the flowers in May.

'Land ho!' sang out a voice on deck. 'Land a weatha bow!'

'Land!' cried Davis, springing to his feet. 'What's this? There ain't no

land here.'

And as men may run from the chamber of a murdered corpse, the three ran

forth out of the house and left their quarrel behind them, undecided.

The sky shaded down at the sea level to the white of opals; the sea

itself, insolently, inkily blue, drew all about them the uncompromising

wheel of the horizon. Search it as they pleased, not even the practisect

eye of Captain Davis could descry the smallest interruption. A few filmy

clouds were slowly melting overhead; and about the schooner, as around

the only point of interest, a tropic bird, white as a snowflake, hung,

and circled, and displayed, as it turned, the long vermilion feather of

its tall. Save the sea and the heaven, that was all.

'Who sang out land?' asked Davis. 'If there's any boy playing funny dog

with me, I'll teach him skylarking!'

The Ebb-Tide