“I want him shipped aboard the _Seabird_,” returned the other, “and Smith’s the man to do it.” “It’s a very hard thing to do in these days, sir,” said Mr. Wilks, shaking his head. “What with signing on aboard the day before the ship sails, and before the Board o’ Trade officers, I’m sure it’s a wonder that anybody goes to sea at all.” “You leave that to Smith,” said the captain, impatiently. “The _Seabird_ sails on Friday morning’s tide. Tell Smith I’ll arrange to meet my son here on Thursday night, and that he must have some liquor for us and a fly waiting on the beach.” Mr. Wilks wriggled: “But what about signing on, sir?” he inquired. “He won’t sign on,” said the captain, “he’ll be a stowaway. Smith must get him smuggled aboard, and bribe the hands to let him lie hidden in the fo’c’s’le. The _Seabird_ won’t put back to put him ashore. Here is five pounds; give Smith two or three now, and the remainder when the job is done.” The steward took the money reluctantly and, plucking up his courage, looked his old master in the face. “It’s a ’ard life afore the mast, sir,” he said, slowly. “Rubbish!” was the reply. “It’ll make a man of him. Besides, what’s it got to do with you?” “I don’t care about the job, sir,” said Mr. Wilks, bravely. “What’s that got to do with it?” demanded the other, frowning. “You go and fix it up with Nathan Smith as soon as possible.” Mr. Wilks shuffled his feet and strove to remind himself that he was a gentleman of independent means, and could please himself. “I’ve known ’im since he was a baby,” he murmured, defiantly. “I don’t want to hear anything more from you, Wilks,” said the captain, in a hard voice. “Those are my orders, and you had better see that they are carried out. My son will be one of the first to thank you later on for getting him out of such a mess.” Mr. Wilks’s brow cleared somewhat. “I s’pose Miss Kate ’ud be pleased too,” he remarked, hopefully. “Of course she will,” said the captain. “Now I look to you, Wilks, to manage this thing properly. I wouldn’t trust anybody else, and you’ve never disappointed me yet.” The steward gasped and, doubting whether he had heard aright, looked towards his old master, but in vain, for the confirmation of further compliments. In all his long years of service he had never been praised by him before. He leaned forward eagerly and began to discuss ways and means. In the next room conversation was also proceeding, but fitfully. Miss Nugent’s consternation when she closed the door behind her and found herself face to face with Mr. Hardy was difficult of concealment. Too late she understood the facial contortions of Mr. Wilks, and, resigning herself to the inevitable, accepted the chair placed for her by the highly pleased Jem, and sat regarding him calmly from the other side of the fender. “I am waiting here for my father,” she said, in explanation. [Illustration: “Miss Nugent’s consternation was difficult of concealment.”]