One morning a sailor of the crew sought an interview with Captain Talbot on the quarter-deck.
"Well, my man?"
"Well, sir, it's like this. I've fallen in love here with the slickest-lookin' bit of a lass I ever clapped eyes upon 'twix' here, sir, and San Domingo; and if you please, capting, I wants to stay here and marry her right away, and live happy hever arterwards."
The captain laughed.
"My good fellow," he said, "I am truly sorry to disappoint you; but you signed articles for all the cruise, you know, and I fear I can't let you go. I'd be one hand short, you see."
"That you would not, sir, for there is Billy Ibsen, as good a seaman, I believe, as ever 'auled taut a lee main brace, and he'll be 'appy to exchange."
"Well then, Smith, if that's the case, and the substitute is suitable, I mustn't throw any obstacles in your way."
And so all ended well. Ibsen proved fit, and Smith went on shore. When the Flora sailed away he was the last man visible, standing on an eminence waving a red bandanna, with the girl of his choice standing modestly by his side.
Little did this island lassie think when the ship hove in sight that it was bringing her a lover and a husband.
But although rare at Tristan Da Cunha, the young ladies of that solitary rock, in the midst of the Atlantic broad and wild, do sometimes count upon the possibility of such an event, and may be heard singing: