“She’ll just have to have her own way till we get to Llanelly,” said the indignant skipper, “and then I’ll send her home by train and ship another cook. I knew she’d got a temper, but I didn’t know it was like this. She’s the last woman that sets foot on my ship—that’s all she’s done for her sex.” In happy ignorance of her impending doom Mrs. Blossom went blithely about her duties, assisted by a crew whose admiration for her increased by leaps and bounds; and the only thing which ventured to interfere with her was a stiff Atlantic roll, which they encountered upon rounding the Land’s End. The first intimation Mrs. Blossom had of it was the falling of small utensils in the galley. After she had picked them up and replaced them several times, she went out to investigate, and discovered that the schooner was dipping her bows to big green waves, and rolling, with much straining and creaking, from side to side. A fine spray, which broke over the bows and flew over the vessel, drove her back into the galley, which had suddenly developed an unaccountable stuffiness; but, though the crew to a man advised her to lie down and have a cup of tea, she repelled them with scorn, and with pale face and compressed lips stuck to her post. Two days later they made fast to the quay at Llanelly, and half-an-hour later the skipper called the mate down to the cabin, and, handing him some money, told him to pay the cook off and ship another. The mate declined. “You obey orders,” said the skipper fiercely, “else you an’ me’ll quarrel.” “I’ve got a wife an’ family,” urged the mate. “Pooh!” said the skipper. “Rubbish!” “And uncles,” added the mate rebelliously. “Very good,” said the skipper, glaring. “We’ll ship the other cook first and let him settle it. After all, I don’t see why we should fight his battles for him.” The mate, being agreeable, went off at once; and when Mrs. Blossom, after a little shopping ashore, returned to the _Gannet_ she found the galley in the possession of one of the fattest cooks that ever broke ship’s biscuit. “Hullo!” said she, realising the situation at a glance, “what are you doing here?” “Cooking,” said the other gruffly. Then, catching sight of his questioner, he smiled amorously and winked at her. “Don’t you wink at me,” said Mrs. Blossom wrathfully. “Come out of that galley.” “There’s room for both,” said the new cook persuasively. “Come in an’ put your ’ed on my shoulder.” Utterly unprepared for this mode of attack, Mrs. Blossom lost her nerve, and, instead of storming the galley, as she had fully intended, drew back and retired to the cabin, where she found a short note from the skipper, enclosing her pay, and requesting her to take the train home. After reading this she went ashore again, returning presently with a big bundle, which she placed on the cabin table in front of Harris and the mate, who had just begun tea.