"No, nor wuss than rats," he replied. "Has the lady got my clothes on yet? I _should_ like to see her." "She'll come when we are ready. That light shining on the skylight must be concealed. I don't want to put the lamp out, and am afraid to draw the curtains for fear the rings should rattle. There's a tarpaulin in the starboard quarter-boat, take and throw it over the skylight whilst I go aft and talk to the fellow steering. Who is he?" "Jim Cornish." He found the tarpaulin, and concealed the light, whilst I spoke to the man at the wheel about the ship's course, the look of the weather, and so on. "Now," said I, rejoining the boatswain, "come and take two or three turns along the poop, that Cornish may see us together." We paced to and fro, stopping every time we reached the wheel to look at the compass. When we were at the fore end of the poop I halted. "Walk aft," I said, "and post yourself right in the way of Cornish, that he shan't be able to see along the weather side of the poop." I followed him until I had come to the part of the deck that was right over Miss Robertson's cabin, and there struck three smart blows with the heel of my boot, at the same time flapping my hands against my breast so as to make Cornish believe that I was warming myself. I walked to the break of the poop and waited. In less time than I could count twenty a figure came out of the cuddy and mounted the poop ladder, and stood by my side. Looking close into the face I could see that it was rather too white to be a sailor's, that was all. The figure was a man's, most perfectly so. "Admirable!" I whispered, grasping her hand. I posted her close against the screened skylight, that her figure might be on a level with the mizzen-mast viewed from the wheel, and called to the boatswain. The tone of my voice gave him his cue. He came forward just as a man would to receive an order. "She is here," I said, turning him by the arm to where Miss Robertson stood motionless. "For God's sake get forward at once! Lose no time!" He went up to her and said-- "I'm sorry I can't see you properly, miss. If this wur daylight I reckon you'd make a handsome sailor, just fit for the gals to go dreamin' an' ravin' about." With which, and waving his hand, the plucky fellow slipped off the poop like a shadow, and I watched him glide along the main-deck until he vanished. "Now," whispered I to my companion, "the tragedy begins. We must walk up and down that the man steering may see us. Keep on the left side of the deck; it is higher than where I shall walk, and will make you look taller." I posted her properly, and we began to measure the deck.