"I left Cape Sable fourteen days ago," I added.

(I was now well across toward the Azores.) "Mate," he roared to his chief officer--"mate, come here and listen to the Yankee's yarn.
Haul down the flag, mate, haul down the flag!" In the best of humor, after all, the _Java_ surrendered to the _Spray_.
[Illustration: Chart of the _Spray's_ course around the world--April 24, 1895, to July 3, 1898] The acute pain of solitude experienced at first never returned.

I had penetrated a mystery, and, by the way, I had sailed through a fog.

I had met Neptune in his wrath, but he found that I had not treated him with contempt, and so he suffered me to go on and explore.
In the log for July 18 there is this entry: "Fine weather, wind south-southwest.

Porpoises gamboling all about.