 saying, »Still I
do not understand.«
    »You must do as I say,« I interrupted authoritatively, for I saw Wolf
Larsen's gaze wandering toward us from where he paced up and down with Latimer
amidships. »Do as I say, and ere long you will find I am right.«
    »What shall I do, then?« she asked, detecting the anxious glance I had shot
at the object of our conversation, and impressed, I flatter myself, with the
earnestness of my manner.
    »Dispense with all the moral courage you can,« I said briskly. »Don't arouse
this man's animosity. Be quite friendly with him, talk with him, discuss
literature and art with him - he is fond of such things. You will find him an
interested listener and no fool. And for your own sake try to avoid witnessing,
as much as you can, the brutalities of the ship. It will make it easier for you
to act your part.«
    »I am to lie,« she said in steady, rebellious tones, »by speech and action
to lie.«
    Wolf Larsen had separated from Latimer and was coming toward us. I was
desperate.
    »Please, please understand me,« I said hurriedly, lowering my voice. »All
your experience of men and things is worthless here. You must begin over again.
I know, - I can see it, - you have, among other ways, been used to managing
people with your eyes, letting your moral courage speak out through them, as it
were. You have already managed me with your eyes, commanded me with them. But
don't try it on Wolf Larsen. You could as easily control a lion, while he would
make a mock of you. He would - I have always been proud of the fact that I
discovered him,« I said, turning the conversation as Wolf Larsen stepped on the
poop and joined us. »The editors were afraid of him and the publishers would
have none of him. But I knew, and his genius and my judgment were vindicated
when he made that magnificent hit with his Forge.«
    »And it was a newspaper poem,« she said glibly.
    »It did happen to see the light in a newspaper,« I replied, »but not because
the magazine editors had been denied a glimpse at it.«
    »We were talking of Harris,« I said to Wolf Larsen.
    »Oh, yes,« he acknowledged. »I remember the Forge. Filled
