“She mustn’t go,” he said, decisively. Fraser shrugged his shoulders. “I tried to persuade her not to, but it was no use. She said there was nothing to stay in England for; she’s quite alone, and there is nobody to miss her.” “Poor girl,” said Flower, softly, and sat crumbling his bread and gazing reflectively at a soda-water advertisement on the wall. He sat so long in this attitude that his companion also turned and studied it. “She mustn’t go,” said Flower, at length. “I’ll go down and see her to-morrow night. You go first and break the news to her, and I’ll follow on. Do it gently, Jack. It’s quite safe; there’s nobody she can talk to now; she’s left the Wheelers, and I’m simply longing to see her. You don’t know what it is to be in love, Jack.” “What am I to tell her?” enquired the other, hastily. “Tell her I was saved,” was the reply. “I’ll do the rest. By Jove, I’ve got it.” He banged the table so hard that his plate jumped and the glasses in the bar rattled in protest. “Anything wrong with the grub?” enquired the landlord, severely. Flower, who was all excitement, shook his head. “Because if there is,” continued the landlord, “I’d sooner you spoke of it than smash the table; never mind about hurting my feelings.” He wiped down the counter to show that Flower’s heated glances had no effect upon _him_, withdrawing reluctantly to serve an impatient customer. “I’ll go down to-morrow morning to the _Golden Cloud_ and try and ship before the mast,” said Flower, excitably; “get married out in New Zealand, and then come home when things are settled. What do you think of that, my boy? How does that strike you?” “How will it strike Cap’n Barber?” asked Fraser, as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to speak. Flower’s eyes twinkled. “It’s quite easy to get wrecked and picked up once or twice,” he said, cheerfully. “I’ll have my story pat by the time I get home, even to the names of the craft I was cast away in. And I can say I heard of Elizabeth’s marriage from somebody I met in New Zealand. I’ll manage all right.” The master of the _Swallow_ gazed at him in helpless fascination. “They want hands on the _Golden Cloud_,” he said, slowly; “but what about your discharges?” “I can get those,” said Flower, complacently; “a man with money and brains can do anything. Lend me a pound or two before I forget it, will you? And if you’ll give me Poppy’s address, I’ll be outside the house at seven to-morrow. Lord, fancy being on the same ship with her for three months.” He threw down a borrowed sovereign on the counter, and, ordering some more drinks, placed them on the table. Fraser had raised his to his lips when he set it down again, and with a warning finger called the other’s attention to the remarkable behaviour of the door communicating with the next bar, which, in open defiance of the fact that it possessed a patent catch of the latest pattern, stood open at least three or four inches.