'Remember the vows that you made to your Mary; Remember the bower where you vowed to be true; Oh, don't deceive me; oh, never leave me! How should you use a poor maiden so?' The captain noticed the gathering cloud, and turning to the ferryman said: 'Come, Olver, it is your turn. On my soul I am enjoying myself famously. I only wish Jack were here. Sing, lad, sing.' Then the boatman began to roar out a ballad. He had not gone far before Mrs. Marley snatched her daughter to her and hurried out of the room. At the same moment down came the end of Job's fiddlestick on his head. 'You dog!' said he. 'What made you sing such a ditty as that before women and children?' 'What made me?' replied Olver sulkily, as he rubbed his head. 'Why just this――that I wanted to be rid of them. How can we relish our evening when we have such as these interloping and spoiling our happiness?' 'Whose house is this? Whose punch is this? Whose pleasure is concerned?' roared the captain. 'I shall have in here just whom I will, without asking your leave; and if I suffer an ill-conditioned cur to sit here at any time, it is that I may have the satisfaction of kicking him if he misconducts himself.' 'Keep your fiddlestick off my head.' 'I shall rap your thick skull whenever you misbehave.' 'I will break it if you do.' 'You dare not. There.' He struck him again. Olver's face became purple, but he did not fulfil his threat. 'It was for your good that I drove them away,' said Dench in a low tone. 'You do not know what you are about, taking this woman into your house.' 'I should think I knew better than you.' 'No, captain, you mistake. Have you considered how folk will talk, what they will say about it?' 'Let them talk and say what they will, I care not one doit.' 'You do not know the woman as well as I myself do. She will twist you about her little finger.' Job laughed scornfully. 'Bah!' said he. 'Look at me――at my bulk, there is no twisting of that.' 'She will find out everything you desire to keep concealed.' 'Suppose there be nothing?' 'What, there is the undertaking for Thursday.' 'Pshaw! She knows which way her bread is buttered.' 'You, captain, may have a masterful will, and that you have one I do not deny. But she has one ten times as masterful as yours. She will hold you in her closed hands, shutting them about you, if you suffer it, or if you cross her she will strike you in the face.' 'She will do neither. I have ruled men in my day, and _such_ men.' 'But not one of them a match for her. You never before have had to do with such a woman as this. If she thought she could benefit her child, it is my belief she would regard no one, stick at nothing.' 'And that,' said Rattenbury, 'that is precisely what I admire in her, ay, and respect. It is with her and Winefred as it is with me and Jack.' CHAPTER VII A LATE VISITOR