“I wish we had an umbrella to lend you,” she said, looking round. “Oh, that’ll be all right,” said the skipper. “I’m nearly dry now.” “Dry?” said Annis. She put her little hand on his coat-sleeve. “Oh, you’re soaking,” she said in dismay. “The idea of me letting you sit about in that state!” “That sleeve is the worst,” said the skipper, whom circumstances had made artful. “It’s all right here.” He brushed his hand down his coat. “That’s a good thing,” said Annis politely. “Um, but not here,” said the skipper, squeezing the lapel of his coat. Annis touched his coat lightly. “You’re very wet,” she said severely; “you ought not to sit about in such things. Wait a moment. I’ll get you a great-coat of my father’s.” She sped lightly up the stairs, and returning with a long, heavy coat, held it out to him. “That’ll keep you dry,” she remarked as the skipper, after a few slight remonstrances, began to put it on. She held the other sleeve up for him and watched, with the satisfaction of a philanthropist, as he buttoned it up. Then she opened the door. “You’ll give my respects to Mrs. Gething?” said the skipper. “Certainly. She’ll be sorry she wasn’t in. Are you staying here long?” “About three days.” Annis pondered. “She’s going out to-morrow,” she said tentatively. “I shall be in the town the day after on business,” said the skipper. “If it wouldn’t be troubling you I might look in. Good-bye.” He shook hands confusedly, wondering whether he had gone too far; and, as the door closed behind him, put his hands in Captain Gething’s pockets and went off in a brown study. Slowly and distinctly as he went along the various things grouped themselves together in his mind, and he began to think aloud. “She knew her mother was out when she met me,” he said slowly. “She knew that other fellow was here; but one would have thought—Lovers’ tiff,” he said suddenly and bitterly; “and doing the pleasant to me to make him smart a bit. He’ll be round to-morrow when the mother’s out.” He went back dejectedly to his ship, and countermanding the tea with which the zealous Henry was about to indulge him, changed his clothes and sat down to smoke. “You’ve got a bit wet,” said the mate. “Where’d you get the coat?” “Friend,” said the other. “Had it lent to me. You know that Captain Gething I told you to look out for?” “I do,” said the other eagerly. “Let the crew know that the reward is raised to five pounds,” said the skipper, drawing strongly at his pipe. “If the reward is riz to five pounds the cook’ll be ’ung for murder or som’think,” said Henry. “It’s no use lookin’ to the crew for ’elp, sir—not a bit.” The skipper deigned no reply, and his message having been conveyed to the foc’sle, a scene of intense animation prevailed there. “_I’m_ goin’ to have a go now,” said Dick emphatically. “Five pounds is worth picking up.” “I only ’ope as you won’t ’ave the treat I ’ad,” said the cook feelingly.