learned by heart. He said it over and over again to himself as he
went up the cabin stairs and passed along the deck to the forecastle,
and the moment he opened the door he shouted:

'Initiative! Mind that word, boys! Write it down--initiative!'

_In-i-ti-a-tive_ was with much difficulty spelt out and written with
chalk on the table. And during the boy's long statement all these men
sat staring, uneasily and with anxious expectancy, at this long, mystic
word.

'And then,' concluded the cabin-boy at last--'then says the steersman:
"But we ourselves shall take the--" what is written on the table.'

All exclaimed simultaneously, 'Initiative.'

'Yes, that was it. And every time he said it, they both struck the table
and looked at me as if they would eat me. I now think, therefore, that
it is a new kind of revolver they intend to use upon us.'

But none of the others thought so; it was surely not so bad as that. But
something was impending, that was clear. And the relieved watchman went
to his berth with gloomy forebodings, and the middle watch did not get a
wink of sleep that night.

At seven o'clock next morning both skipper and steersman were up on
deck. No man could remember ever having seen them before so early in the
day. But there was no time to stand in amazement, for now followed, in
quick succession, orders for sailing.

'Heave up the anchors! Let two men go ashore and slip the cables!'

There was gladness and bustle among the crew, and the preparations
proceeded so rapidly that in less than an hour the brig was under
canvas.

The skipper looked at the steersman and shook his head, muttering, 'This
is the devil's own haste.'

After a few little turns in the spacious harbour, the brig passed the
headland and stood out to sea. A fresh breeze was blowing, and the waves
ran rather high.

The steersman, with a prodigious twist in his mouth, stood astride the
tiller, for such a piece of devil's trumpery as a wheel should never
come on board as long as _he_ had anything