“No,” said Pepper. “She said I was very kind, and she’d like the clock; and, what’s more, she had it too! Red-’aired hussy!” The captain poured out some gin and drank it slowly. It was evident he was thinking deeply, and that he was much affected by his friend’s troubles. “There is only one way for me to get clear,” said Pepper, as he finished a thrilling recital of his wrongs, “and that is, to find Cap’n Budd, her first.” “Why, he’s dead!” said Crippen, staring hard. “Don’t you waste your time looking for him!” “I’m not going to,” said Pepper; “but here’s his portrait. He was a big man like you; he had blue eyes and a straight handsome nose, like you. If he’d lived to now he’d be almost your age, and very likely more like you than ever. He was a sailor; you’ve been a sailor.” The captain stared at him in bewilderment. “He had a wonderful way with wimmen,” pursued Jackson hastily; “you’ve got a wonderful way with wimmen. More than that, you’ve got the most wonderful gift for acting I’ve ever seen. Ever since the time when you acted in that barn at Bristol I’ve never seen any actor I can honestly say I’ve liked—never! Look how you can imitate cats—better than Henry Irving himself!” “I never had much chance, being at sea all my life,” said Crippen modestly. “You’ve got the gift,” said Pepper impressively. “It was born in you, and you’ll never leave off acting till the day of your death. You couldn’t if you tried—you know you couldn’t!” The captain smiled deprecatingly. “Now, I want you to do a performance for my benefit,” continued Pepper. “I want you to act Cap’n Budd, what was lost in the _Dolphin_ thirty years ago. There’s only one man in England I’d trust with the part, and that’s you.” “Act Cap’n Budd!” gasped the astonished Crippen, putting down his glass and staring at his friend. “The part is written here,” said the ex-pilot, producing a note-book from his breast pocket and holding it out to his friend. “I’ve been keeping a log day by day of all the things she said about him, in the hopes of catching her tripping, but I never did. There’s notes of his family, his ships, and a lot of silly things he used to say, which she thinks funny.” “I couldn’t do it!” said the captain seriously, as he took the book. “You could do it if you liked,” said Pepper. “Besides, think what a spree it’ll be for you. Learn it by heart, then come down and claim her. Her name’s Martha.” “What good ’ud it do you if I did?” inquired the captain. “She’d soon find out!” “You come down to Sunset Bay,” said Pepper, emphasising his remarks with his forefinger; “you claim your wife; you allude carefully to the things set down in this book; I give Martha back to you and bless you both. Then”— “Then what?” inquired Crippen anxiously.