CAPT. H. (_without, in a loud voice_) Don't tell me! I know she's aloft; so clear the gangway, you lubber! TRIPTOLE. } } (_together_) That voice! ARABEL. } TRIPTOLE. It's he! my vampire! my brawny ruffian! ARABEL. My brother! and I, who thought he was catching herrings! TRIPTOLE. Not he; he was trying to catch _me_! CAPT. H. (_outside_) Now, Arabella, my girl, shew us a light, will you? (_the handle of the door is heard to turn, and as the door slightly opens, TRIPTOLEMUS precipitates himself against it, shuts it, and draws the bolt_) ARABEL. What's to be done? if he comes in, you're a dead man! TRIPTOLE. And if I go out, I'm _another_ dead man! (_here the door is violently shaken_) CAPTAIN HARDAPORT. (_in a thundering voice_) Now then, look alive! TRIPTOLE. (_in a loud whisper to ARABELLA_) Say you're ill in bed--with the measles--or the nettle rash. CAPT. H. (_with another bang at the door_) I can't stop here all day, shiver my timbers if I can--so open the door. TRIPTOLE. Don't!--let him shiver his timbers. You can form but a faint idea of the exquisite delight I should feel at his shivering his timbers. CAPT. H. (_without_) You won't let me in. Then here goes! (_a tremendous shaking and knocking at the door--TRIPTOLEMUS, in an agony of fear, rushes to the window, throws it open, puts out one leg, then looks down, and hurriedly draws it back again--here other and more violent blows against the door, which is burst open at the very moment that TRIPTOLEMUS rushes frantically into ARABELLA'S room, at R. 2 E.--CAPTAIN HARDAPORT, in a rough pea jacket, tarpaulin coat, and the other peculiarities of a sailor's costume, comes in, looks about the room, then walks up to ARABELLA, looks her full in the face, then looks again about the room--ARABELLA, who has thrown herself on her chair, has snatched up some worsted work, and pretends to be very busy over it_) CAPT. H. You were talking to somebody. ARABEL. (_looking up from her work, and pretending great unconcern_) Did you speak? CAPT. H. Yes; I said you were talking to somebody. ARABEL. I was. CAPT. H. Who? ARABEL. Myself; 'tis a habit I've got when I'm alone and want a little conversation. CAPT. H. Umph! it sounded to _me_ like a man's voice. (_with intention, and looking intently at her_) Umph! (_suspiciously_) Now listen to me, sister Bella. (_taking a chair and sitting down_) You must know---- (_here a noise is heard in room, R. 2 E._) What's that? ARABEL. (_striving to conceal her alarm_) What? CAPT. H. That noise. ARABEL. Where? CAPT. H. (_looking suspiciously at ARABELLA, and then pointing to room, R. 2 E._) There. ARABEL. (_quickly_) Oh! it's only Mrs. Sheepshanks, the charwoman, putting my room to rights; she always comes on Mondays. CAPT. H. This is _Friday!_ ARABEL. Mondays and Fridays. (_aside_) I'm more dead than alive!