In repose, his congested face had a humorously melancholy
expression.
The ship-keeper having given him up all the keys and having been chased
forward with the admonition to mind his own business and not to chatter
about what did not concern him, Mr. Franklin went under the poop. He
opened one door after another; and, in the saloon, in the captain's state-
room and everywhere, he stared anxiously as if expecting to see on the
bulkheads, on the deck, in the air, something unusual--sign, mark,
emanation, shadow--he hardly knew what--some subtle change wrought by the
passage of a girl. But there was nothing. He entered the unoccupied
stern cabin and spent some time there unscrewing the two stern ports. In
the absence of all material evidences his uneasiness was passing away.
With a last glance round he came out and found himself in the presence of
his captain advancing from the other end of the saloon.
Franklin, at once, looked for the girl. She wasn't to be seen. The
captain came up quickly. 'Oh! you are here, Mr. Franklin.' And the mate
said, 'I was giving a little air to the place, sir.
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