Flower nodded. “She’s the one I’m going to marry,” he said, colouring. “I’d sooner marry her than command a liner. I’ll marry her if I lose every penny I’m going to have, but I’m not going to lose the money if I can help it. I want both.” The mate baled out his cup with a spoon and put the contents into the saucer. “I’m a sort of guardian to her,” said Flower. “Her father, Captain Tyrell, died about a year ago, and I promised him I’d look after her and marry her. It’s a sacred promise.” “Besides, you want to,” said Fraser, by no means in the mood to allow his superior any credit in the matter, “else you wouldn’t do it.” “You don’t know me, Jack,” said the skipper, more in sorrow than in anger. “No, I didn’t think you were quite so bad,” said the mate, slowly. “Is—Miss Tyrell—fond of you?” “Of course she is,” said Flower, indignantly; “they all are, that’s the worst of it. You were never much of a favourite with the sex, Jack, were you?” Fraser shook his head, and, the saucer being full, spooned the contents slowly back into the cup again. “Captain Tyrell leave any money?” he enquired. “Other way about,” replied Flower. “I lent him, altogether, close on a hundred pounds. He was a man of very good position, but he took to drink and lost his ship and his self-respect, and all he left behind was his debts and his daughter.” “Well, you’re in a tight place,” said Fraser, “and I don’t see how you’re going to get out of it. Miss Tipping’s got a bit of a clue to you now, and if she once discovers you, you’re done. Besides, suppose Miss Tyrell finds anything out?” “It’s all excitement,” said Flower, cheerfully. “I’ve been in worse scrapes than this and always got out of ’em. I don’t like a quiet life. I never worry about things, Jack, because I’ve noticed that the things people worry about never happen.” “Well, if I were you, then,” said the other, emphasizing his point with the spoon, “I should just worry as much as I could about it. I’d get up worrying and I’d go to bed worrying. I’d worry about it in my sleep.” “I shall come out of it all right,” said Flower. “I rather enjoy it. There’s Gibson would marry Elizabeth like a shot if she’d have him; but, of course, she won’t look at him while I’m above ground. I have thought of getting somebody to tell Elizabeth a lot of lies about me.” “Why, wouldn’t the truth do?” enquired the mate, artlessly. The skipper turned a deaf ear. “But she wouldn’t believe a word against me,” he said, with mournful pride, as he rose and went on deck. “She trusts me too much.” From his knitted brows, as he steered, it was evident, despite his confidence, that this amiable weakness on the part of Miss Banks was causing him some anxiety, a condition which was not lessened by the considerate behaviour of the mate, who, when any fresh complication suggested itself to him, dutifully submitted it to his commander.