“I’ll go down below and wait,” he said, stopping before the men. “Tell Fraser I’m there, or else he’ll be startled. I nearly killed poor old George. The man’s got no pluck at all.” He moved slowly towards the cabin and Poppy, leaving the men exchanging glances of hopeless consternation. Then, as he turned to descend, the desperate Joe ran up and laid a detaining hand on his sleeve. “You can’t go down there,” he whispered, and dragged him forcibly away. “Why not?” demanded the other, struggling. “Let go, you fool.” He wrenched himself free, and stood gazing angrily at the excited seaman. “There’s a lady down there,” said the latter, in explanation. “Well, I sha’n’t eat her,” said the indignant Flower. “Don’t you put your hands on me again, my lad, or you’ll repent it. Who is it?” Joe eyed him helplessly and, with a dim idea of putting off the discovery as long as possible, mysteriously beckoned him forward. “Who is it?” asked the puzzled Flower, advancing a pace or two. The seaman hesitated. Then a sudden inspiration, born of the memories of last year’s proceedings, seized him, and he shook with the brilliancy of it. He looked significantly at Mr. Green, and his voice trembled with excitement. “The lady who used to come down to the _Foam_ asking for Mr. Robinson,” he stammered. “_What?_” said the dismayed Flower, coming briskly forward and interposing two masts, the funnel, and the galley between himself and the cabin. “Why on earth didn’t you say so before?” “Well, I didn’t know what to do, sir,” said Joe, humbly; “it ain’t for the likes of me to interfere.” Flower knit his brows, and tapped the deck with his foot. “What’s she doing down there?” he said, irritably; “_she’s_ not going to marry Fraser, is she?” Joe gulped. “Yessir,” he said, promptly. “Yessir,” said Mr. Green, with an intuitive feeling that a lie of such proportions required backing. Flower stood in amaze, pondering the situation, and a grin slowly broke the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell Fraser I’ve been here,” he said, at length. “No, sir,” said Joe, eagerly. “I’ll see him in a day or two,” said Flower, “after he’s married. You understand me, Joe?” “Yessir,” said Joe, again. “Shall I put you ashore, sir?” He was almost dancing with impatience lest Fraser or Poppy should spoil his plans by putting in an appearance, but before Flower could reply Mr. Green gave a startled exclamation, and the captain, with a readiness born of his adventures of the last year, promptly vanished down the forecastle as Miss Tyrell appeared on deck. Joe closed the scuttle, and with despair gnawing at his vitals sat on it.