“Get away about three,” he repeated, “and then for Northfleet. I’ll have all the hands to the wedding, and you shall be best man, Jim.” “And Henry ’ll be a little page in white satin knickers holding up the bride’s train,” said the mate, spluttering at the picture he had conjured up. They all laughed—all except Henry, who, having come down with some hot water from the galley, surveyed the ribald scene with a scarcely concealed sneer. Half an hour later the skipper and mate went ashore to transact a little business, leaving the old man smoking peacefully in the cabin. The crew, having adjusted their differences, had already gone ashore to treat each other to beer, leaving Henry in sole charge. “You’ll stay by the ship, boy,” said the skipper, looking down on him from the quay. “Ay, ay, sir,” said Henry sulkily. The two men walked along the quay and into the High Street, the skipper shrugging his shoulders good-naturedly as he caught, through a half-open door, a glimpse of his crew settling down to business. It was an example that in the circumstances seemed to be worth following, and at the next public-house the mate, sacrificing his inclinations to the occasion, drank port wine instead of his favorite whisky. For the same reason he put his pipe back in his pocket and accepted a cigar, and then followed his superior into the street. “Where’s a likely tailor’s?” asked the skipper, looking round. “What for?” asked the mate. “I’m going to get some things for Cap’n Gething,” said the other. “He’s hardly the figure to meet his family as he is.” “Why didn’t you bring him with us?” asked the mate. “How about a fit?” “He wouldn’t hear of it,” said the skipper, pausing in deep contemplation of three wax boys in a tailor’s window. “He’s an independent sort of man; but if I buy the clothes and take ’em aboard he can hardly refuse to wear ’em.” He led the way into the shop and asked to see some serge suits. At the mate’s instigation he asked to see some more. At the mate’s further instigation he asked whether that was all they had got, and being told that it was, looked at them all over again. It is ever a difficult thing to fit an absent man, but he and the mate tried on every jacket in the hope of finding a golden mean, until the mate, dropping his lighted cigar in the coat-sleeve of one, and not finding it as soon as the tailor could have desired, the latter lost all patience and insisted upon their taking that one. “It’s all right,” said the mate, as they left the shop with the parcel; “it’s only the lining. I’d fixed my mind on that one, too, from the first.” “Well, why didn’t you say so, then?” said the skipper. “Got it cheaper,” said the mate, with a wink. “I’d bet you, if it could only be known, if we’d been suited at first he’d ha’ wanted ten bob more for it.” It was quite dark by now, and after buying a cap and one or two other small articles, the mate led the way into a tavern for another drink.