“Ha?” said Meldon. “Poor young thing. Great trouble about parting from her husband.”
“Ye-es,” said Parkley. Then, to turn the conversation, he said with a smile, “Lucky thing for us bachelors, Mr Meldon. We never have to trouble our heads about the women.”
“N-no,” said the doctor, looking sharply at his companion, with a broad red stain of blood suffusing his cheeks. “Quite a novelty, though, a voyage with ladies on board. He didn’t hear me,” he continued, as Mr Parkley obeyed a sign from the captain to come and have a look through his glass at the steamer astern.
“No, sir, he’s gone to have a good look at that steamer, as seems as if she meant to overhaul us,” said Sam Oakum; “but I heard you, and you’re right.”
“Let’s see, you are the second mate, aren’t you, Mr Oakum?”
“Sir, to you, I am,” said Oakum.
“But what do you mean by being right?” said the doctor with a smile.
“’Bout having ladies on board, sir. I know I’ve been voyages before with women aboard twice or three times mayhap, and no good can come of it.”
“Ah, you’re a croaker, I see,” said the doctor, nodding and laughing. “Your liver’s out of order.”
“Hope I am, sir; and as to my liver, I don’t believe I’ve got one, leastways I can’t say as I knows I’ve one. Ay, ay, sir, coming.”