As they left the harbour, dinner was announced; and Captain Turner being engaged on deck, Puffeigh assumed his place at the head of the table, a very inquisitive lady, who was placed in his charge by her husband, being seated upon his right; the boy Jordun standing by, having been directed to wait upon her, as a sort of extra attendant. Dinner was nearly over, and Puffeigh well warmed with sherry, when a steward pointed to a long parcel which was laid upon the glass-rack overhead, and asked the captain if he knew it was there.
"What is it?"
"Don't know, sir," said the head steward. "It was brought on board for you just as the ship turned ahead."
"Hand it down."
The parcel was reached from the rack and placed upon the table, and the lady read the address, which ran as follows:—
"The Honourable Captain Puffeigh,
Late Commander of
H. M. S. Stinger.
"Fruit, with care."
"What can it be?" said the lady.
"Who sent it?" queried Crushe, who was seated on the captain's left.