“Most likely it’s Jim come back,” I answered gruffly. “’E said ’e’d come soon as the missus was better.”
“Of course,” Mullen said pleasantly. “How foolish of me not to think of it. I’m glad the poor fellow’s wife’s better. But I shall be sorry to lose your entertaining companionship, my genial friend. Can’t I persuade you to stay on and favour us with the pleasure of your company for a day or two longer, as my guest?”
“Guest be blowed!” I replied in my surliest tone. “If that’s Jim Hughes, the sooner I ’as my money and gets ashore agen the better I’ll like it.”
“I should be hurt if I thought you meant that,” he said banteringly; “but I know you don’t. We’ve hit it off together charmingly, I’m sure, notwithstanding the fact that I’m so ‘difficult’ socially. And I’d make such delightful plans for your comfort and amusement. It seems hard that we should have to part.”
At that moment, and not a little to my relief, we heard a voice which was unmistakably Hughes’, for he was expressing, by means of a liberal use of his favourite adjective, the unwillingness with which he set eyes on “the old tub again.”
“Well,” said Mullen, when Hughes entered the cabin, “and how’s your wife?”
“Better,” was the answer.
“Ah, that’s capital; I congratulate you, I’m sure. So glad to see you back again. Except, of course, for the fact that we shall be deprived of your brother’s company. He is your brother you said, didn’t you? Though really one need hardly ask; the likeness, I’m sure, is wonderful. But what a man it is, Hughes! Such geniality, such urbanity, such a flow of spirits, such a fund of information, and, above all, such manners!”
Hughes, who had probably never seen Mullen in this vein before, looked first at him and then at me in astonishment.
“Stow your jaw!” I said shortly. “If you’re going to pay me for the job, pay me and let me go!”