“I’d better hide this, Olivia,” he said. “If it’s for your husband’s birthday. Shall I hide it?” As she nodded a swift answer her husband stepped on to the poop. Stukeley advanced rapidly and kissed his wife, with some show of fervour, for policy’s sake. Then with a quick snatch he caught Perrin’s drawing, lying half hidden upon the skylight seat under one of Olivia’s wraps. “Look at little Pilly’s cow,” he said. “Look, Olivia. Did you draw this, little Pilly?” “He was drawing it for me,” said Olivia. “Were you going to teach him to embroider it? Little Pilly, was he going to have his little needle, then? And his red and blue silk. Eh? You know, Olivia, I saw little Pilly here, down in the cabin one hit me, playing with some red and blue silk spools. Ah, little Pilly; it’s a shame to tease him. He must have his little dollies, then?” “You put down that drawing,” said Perrin, snatching at it. Stukeley held him aside with one hand, dangling the drawing from the other. “No, no, little Pilly,” he said. “Manners, little boy. Manners before ladies.” “Don’t, Tom dear,” said Olivia. “Don’t spoil the drawing.” “That would be a shame,” he answered. “Little Pilly draws so beautifully. Which is the tail, Pilly?” he asked. “Which of these prongy things is the tail?” Perrin did not answer; but again attempted to snatch the canvas. “Why don’t you take it, little Pilly?” said Stukeley. “Damn you, give it,” said Perrin, white with passion. He snatched the canvas from him, smote him a sharp slash across the eyes with it, and flung it overboard. Stukeley made a rush at him, but became involved with one of Olivia’s wraps. Cammock stepped between the disputants with his quadrant at his eye. “Woa, blood,” he said. “Don’t knock my ship overboard. Make eight bells there, will you, Mr. Perrin? Mr. Stukeley, will you please step and tell the steward to set the clock right?” “Do your own dirty work,” said Stukeley. The helmsman sniggered audibly. Cammock raised his hat about an inch from his head. “Quite right, sir,” he said, as Perrin made eight bells. “Quite right to remind me, sir. I forgot you was only a passenger.” “Steward,” shouted Perrin. “Oh. Mrs. Inigo. Just tell the steward to set the clock right.” “De clock am set, seh,” said the steward, coming to the break of the poop to ring the bell for dinner. “Tom dear,” said Olivia, conscious that the man she loved had made but a poor show. “Tom dear. You weren’t very kind. I mean. I think you hurt Captain Cammock. And you made Edward angry. He can’t bear to be teased. He’s not easy-tempered like you, dear. I think sometimes you forget that, don’t you, Tom? You won’t be cross, Tom?” “Oh, nonsense, Polly,” he said, as he took her arm to lead her below. “Nonsense, you old pretty-eyes. I can’t resist teasing Pilly; he’s such an old hen. As for Cammock, he’s only an old pirate. I’m not going to be ordered about by a man like that. He’s no right to be at liberty.”