Unconscious of the interest she was exciting, Poppy Tyrell, who had tired of the solitude of the cabin, took a seat on a camp-stool, and, folding her hands in her lap, sat enjoying the peace and calm of the summer evening. Joe saw defeat in the very moment of victory; even while he sat, the garrulous Tommy might be revealing State secrets to the credulous Flower. “Get her down below,” he whispered, fiercely, to Mr. Green. “Quick!” His friend stared at him aghast, but made no movement. He looked at the unconscious Poppy, and then back at the mouthing figure seated on the scuttle. His brain was numbed. Then a little performance on Charlie’s part a week or two before, which had cost that gentleman his berth, occurred to him, and he moved slowly forward. For a moment the astonished Joe gazed at him in wrathful bewilderment; then his brow cleared, and his old estimate of his friend was revived again. Mr. Green lurched rather than walked, and, getting as far as the galley, steadied himself with one hand, and stood, with a foolish smile, swaying lightly in the breeze. From the galley he got with great care to the side of the ship opposite Poppy, and, clutching the shrouds, beamed on her amiably. The girl gave one rapid glance at him and then, as he tottered to the wheel and hung on by the spokes, turned her head away. What it cost the well-bred Mr. Green to stagger as he came by her again and then roll helplessly at her feet, will never be known, and he groaned in spirit as the girl, with one scornful glance in his direction, rose quietly and went below again. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he rose to his feet and signalled hurriedly to Joe, then he mounted sentry over the companion, grinning feebly at the success of his manœuvres as he heard a door closed and locked below. “You pull me round to the wharf, Joe,” said Flower, as he tumbled hurriedly into the boat. “I don’t want to run into Fraser, and I just want to give old George the tip to keep quiet for a day or two.” The seaman obeyed readily, and exchanged a triumphant glance with Mr. Green as they shot by the steamer’s stern. His invention was somewhat tried by Flower’s questions on the way to the wharf, but he answered them satisfactorily, and left him standing on the jetty imparting to George valuable thoughts on the maxim that speech is silver and silence golden. Joe tried a few of the principal points with Tommy upon his return to the steamer, the necessity for using compliments instead of threats to a ship’s boy being very galling to his proud nature. “You be a good boy like you always ’ave been, Tommy,” he said, with a kindly smile, “and don’t breathe a word about wot’s ’appened this evening, and ’ere’s a tanner for you to spend—a whole tanner.” Tommy bit it carefully, and, placing it in his pocket, whistled thoughtfully. “Fill your pipe out o’ that, young ’un,” said Mr. Green, proffering his pouch with a flourish.