The rosy-faced skipper’s eyes grew bigger, and he stared in silence for at least ten seconds at Antonio, as if he were looking at some of Madame Tussaud’s wonderful wax figures.
“Bless my soul and body!” he repeated, “and you actually mean to tell me that you escaped at last, and that you really are alive?”
“We certainly escaped, and as far as I can tell, we are all alive, though not over-strong yet.”
The Glasgow skipper took a seat beneath the awning, lit an enormous cigar, and gave Antonio another.
“Now,” he said, “tell me all about your adventures.”
Teenie came shyly up at this moment and put her arm round Antonio’s neck.
“What a bonnie lassie!” cried the skipper. “Come here, dear, and shake a paw. Why, if I were a hundred years younger I’d make love to you myself.
“Your daughter, Captain Antonio?”
“No, Captain M‘Lean. Shall I tell him what you are, dearie?” This last to Teenie herself.