“I not mean dat sort of spirit, sah, but spirit all same’s one angel, or cherub. Sing lubly too.”
Antonio and Archie Webber both began to think that poor Pandoo had gone out of his mind. Nevertheless the captain accompanied him down to the storeroom.
The singing had ceased, and so the weird wee man turned the key and walked boldly in. Next moment a barefooted little child in a short red dress had sprung into his arms.
“Oh, dear ’Tonio, I is so glad you is come. I think I soon die here all by myself in the dark.”
“But, my child and dearie, how on earth did you come here at all?”
He had led her out into the sunlit and beautifully furnished saloon, and seated her beside him on the sofa.
“Tell us your little story, dear.”
“Oh, that isn’t nothing, you know; I’ve just runned away to sea because I love you, and the sea, and everything.”
“I am puzzled what to do with you, dearie; I can’t send you back.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” cried Teenie pleadingly.