Waylao took good care not to hide in the vessel’s hold this time, for they found her peeping with frightened eyes behind some orange-cases on deck ere they had been to sea forty-eight hours.
“How was it? Tell me all about it?” said I to the sailor who had discovered the girl.
“Why, we had just got out to sea, when I was a-standing on deck talking to my mate there. ‘What’s that?’ says I, as I ’eard a rustling behind the deck cargo.
“‘Rats!’ he says to me. Then I looks round and, strike me lucky! if I didn’t see a pair of the prettiest frightened eyes peeping up at me through the chink of an empty orange-case!
“Well, I looks down at them ’ere eyes, and says to my mate: ‘Strike me lucky! if it ain’t a beautiful gal, a stowaway—and, phew! what eyes! Hallo, missie! W’ere yer sprung from?’ says I. The skipper was at that moment tramping to and fro on the poop. He’s a nasty old man, so as she gazed up at us, me and my mate sees how things were, so I whispers to her and says: ‘Keep still, girl, till the Old Man’s out of sight, and we’ll slip you into the forecastle!’
“It wasn’t long before we saw our chance. ‘Come on, missie,’ says I. Gawd! you oughter ’ave seen her blood-stained feet, as we sneaked across the deck and into the boatswain’s cabin, for we had taken him into our confidence.
“You should ’ave seen that poor devil’s grateful eyes as we trimmed her up, gave her food and did our level best to make her comfortable.”
As the sailor spoke, I saw Waylao’s eyes quite plain enough.
“What happened then?” I said, as we walked ashore, for that sailor and I became pally.
In the little saloon near the wharf at Suva we sat together as he continued to tell all that I was so deeply anxious to hear.