He strolled off with Ben and the cook, as the skipper came towards them again, and sat down in the bows. Tim, sore afraid of his shipmates’ contempt, tried again. “I wanted to ask your pardon in case I done wrong last night, sir,” he said, humbly. “All right, it’s granted,” replied the other, walking away. Tim raised his eyes to heaven, and then lowering them, looked even more beseechingly at his comrades. “Go on,” said Ben, shaping the words only with his mouth. “I don’t know, sir, whether you know what I was alloodin’ to just now,” said Tim, in trembling accents, as the skipper came within earshot again. “I’m a-referring to a cab ride.” “And I told you that I’ve forgiven you,” said Flower, sternly, “forgiven you freely—all of you.” “It’s a relief to my mind, sir,” faltered the youth, staring. “Don’t mix yourself up in my business again, that’s all,” said the skipper; “you mightn’t get off so easy next time.” “It’s been worrying me ever since, sir,” persisted Tim, who was half fainting. “I’ve been wondering whether I ought to have answered them ladies’ questions, and told ’em what I did tell ’em.” The skipper swung round hastily and confronted him. “Told them?” he stuttered, “told them what?” “I ’ardly remember, sir,” said Tim, alarmed at his manner. “Wot with the suddenness o’ the thing, an’ the luckshury o’ riding in a cab, my ’ead was in a whirl.” “What did they ask you?” demanded the shipper. “They asked me what Cap’n Flower was like an’ where ’e lived,” said Tim, “an’ they asked me whether I knew a Mr. Robinson.” Captain Flower, his eyes blazing, waited. “I said I ’adn’t got the pleasure o’ Mr. Robinson’s acquaintance,” said Tim, with a grand air. “I was just goin’ to tell ’em about you when Joe ’ere gave me a pinch.” “Well?” enquired the skipper, stamping with impatience. “I pinched ’im back agin,” said Tim, smiling tenderly at the reminiscence. “Tim’s a fool, sir,” said Joe, suddenly, as the overwrought skipper made a move towards the galley. “’E didn’t seem to know wot ’e was a sayin’ of, so I up and told ’em all about you.” “You did, did you? Damn you,” said Flower, bitterly. “In answer to their questions, sir,” said Joe, “I told ’em you was a bald-headed chap, marked with the small-pox, and I said when you was at ’ome, which was seldom, you lived at Aberdeen.” The skipper stepped towards him and laid his hand affectionately on his shoulder. “You ought to have been an admiral, Joe,” he said, gratefully, without intending any slur on a noble profession. “I also told George, the watchman, to tell ’em the same thing, if they came round again worrying,” said Joe, proudly. The skipper patted him on the shoulder again.