“It’s swelled more than it was yesterday,” she said, with ill-concealed satisfaction. “It feels better,” said the captain. “That’s ’cos it’s goin’ dead,” said the damsel; “then it’ll go black all up your leg, and then you’ll ’ave to ’ave it orf.” Flower grinned comfortably. “You may larf,” said the small girl, severely; “but you won’t larf when you lose it, an’ all becos you won’t poultice it with tea leaves.” She collected the things together on a tea tray of enormous size, and holding it tightly pressed to her small waist, watched with anxious eyes as the heavy articles slowly tobogganed to the other end. A knife fell outside the door, and the loaf, after a moment’s hesitation which nearly upset the tray, jumped over the edge and bounded downstairs. Flower knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and slowly refilling it, began to peruse the morning paper, looking in vain, as he had looked each morning, for an account of his death. His reading was interrupted by a loud knock at the street door, and he threw down the paper to be ready to receive the faithful Fraser. He heard the door open, and then the violent rushing upstairs of Miss Chiffers to announce his visitor. “Somebody to see you, Mr. Norton,” she panted, bursting into the room. “Well, show him up,” said Flower. “All of ’em?” demanded Miss Chiffers. “Is there more than one?” enquired Flower in a startled voice. “Three,” said Miss Chiffers, nodding; “two gentlemen and a lady.” “Did they say what their names were?” enquired the other, turning very pale. Miss Chiffers shook her head, and then stooped to pick up a hairpin. “One of ’em’s called Dick,” she said, replacing the pin. “Tell them I’m not at home,” said Flower, hastily, “but that I shall be back at twelve o’clock, See?” He produced a shilling, and the small girl, with an appreciative nod, left the room, and closed the door behind her. Flower, suffering severely from nervous excitement, heard a discussion in the passage below, and then sounds of a great multitude coming upstairs and opening various doors on its way, in spite of the indignant opposition afforded by the daughter of the house. “What’s in here?” enquired a well-known voice, as a hand was placed on his door handle. “Nothing,” said Miss Chiffers; “’ere, you go away, that’s my bedroom. Go away, d’you ’ear?” There was the sound of a diminutive scuffle outside, then the door opened and a smartly-dressed young man, regardless of the fair form of Miss Chiffers, which was coiled round his leg, entered the room. “Why, Dick,” said the skipper, rising, “Dick! Thank goodness it’s you.” “I’ve no doubt you’re delighted,” said Mr. Tipping, coldly. “What are you doing with that knife?” “I thought it was somebody else,” said Flower, putting it down. “I thought it was another attempt on my life.” Mr. Tipping coughed behind his hand and murmured something inaudibly as his sister entered the room, followed by the third member of the party.