“What would you do, Henry?” asked the skipper very quietly. “Go back an’ fetch Miss Gething, o’ course,” said the boy, “an’ take her down to the ship. That’ll settle it.” “By Jove! the boy’s right,” said the mate—“if there’s time.” But the skipper had already started. “You’re a very good boy, Henry,” said the mate approvingly. “Now go down and watch the _Frolic_ again, and as soon as she starts getting under way run back and let us know. If she passes before he comes back I’ll hail her and try and find out what it all means.” Meantime the skipper, half walking, half running, went on his way to Overcourt, arriving at Stagg’s Gardens in a breathless condition. Number five was fast asleep when he reached it and began a violent thumping upon the door. “Who’s there? What do you want?” demanded a shrill voice as the window was thrown up and a female head protruded. “I want to see that young lady I brought here a little while ago,” said the skipper—“quick.” “What, at this time o’ night!” said the lady. “Be reasonable, young man, if you _are_ sweethearting.” “Something important,” said the skipper impatiently. “Can’t you tell me what it is?” said the lady, who felt that she was in a position to have her curiosity satisfied. “Tell her I’ve got news of her father,” said the skipper, restraining himself with difficulty. The head disappeared and the window was closed. After what seemed an hour to the impatient man, he heard a step in the passage, the door opened, and Annis stood before him. With a very few words they were walking together again down the road, Annis listening to his story as they went. It was a long way, and she was already tired, but she refused the offer of her companion’s arm with a spirit which showed that she had not forgotten the previous journey. As they neared the _Seamew_ the skipper’s spirits sank, for the mate, who was watching, ran out to meet them. “It’s no use,” he said sympathetically; “she’s under way. Shall we hail her as she goes by?” The skipper, leaving Annis unceremoniously on the quay, sprang aboard and peered anxiously down the river. The night was starlit, and he could just discern a craft coming slowly towards them. “Hoist a couple of lanterns, Jack, and call the crew up quickly,” he cried to the mate. “What for?” said the other in astonishment. “You light ’em,” cried the skipper excitedly. “Henry, help me off with these hatches.” He was down on his knees with the boy unfastening them, while the mate, having lit a lantern, ran forward to rouse the men. The _Frolic_ was now but twenty yards astern. “Ahoy! schooner, ahoy!” bawled Wilson, running suddenly to the side. “Halloa!” came a hoarse voice. “Are you full up?” shouted the master of the _Seamew_. “No,” came the roar again. “Drop your anchor and come alongside,” shouted the skipper, “I’ve got to stay here another week, and I’ve got a dozen barrels o’ herring must be in London before then.”