“Oh no,” answered Potter; “I just thought she might be related to you in some way; you seem to be pretty anxious about her welfare; that’s all.”
“And very naturally, I think, taking into consideration the fact that I have most assuredly saved her life,” retorted Leslie. “Having done so much, I feel it incumbent upon me to take her under my care and protection until I can find a means of putting her into the way of returning to England, or of resuming her voyage to Australia—whichever she may prefer.”
“Very kind and disinterested of you, I’m sure,” remarked Potter, sneeringly. “But if she’s no relation of yours there’s no call for you to worry any more about her; she’s aboard my ship, now; and I’ll look after her in future, and do whatever may be necessary. As for you, I’ll trans-ship you, the first chance I get; never fear.”
The fellow’s tone was so gratuitously offensive that Leslie determined to come to an understanding with him at once.
“Captain Potter,” he said, turning sharply upon the man, “your manner leads me to fear that the presence of Miss Trevor and myself on board your ship is disagreeable or inconvenient—or perhaps both—to you. If so, I can only say, on behalf of the young lady and myself, that we are very sorry; although our sorrow is not nearly profound enough to drive us over the side again; we shall remain aboard here until something else comes along to relieve you of our unwelcome presence; then we will go, let the craft be what she will, and bound where she may. And, meanwhile, so long as we are with you, I will pay you two pounds a day for our board and accommodation, which I think ought to compensate you adequately for any inconvenience or annoyance that we may cause you. And Miss Trevor will continue to be under my care; make no mistake about that!”
The offer of two pounds per diem for the board and lodging of two people produced an immediate soothing and mollifying effect upon the skipper’s curious temper; he made an obvious effort to infuse his rather truculent-looking features with an amiable expression, and replied, in tones of somewhat forced geniality—
“Oh, all right, mister; I’m not going to quarrel with you. You and the lady are quite welcome aboard here; and I’ll do what I can to make you both comfortable; though, with our limited accommodation, I don’t quite see, just at this minute, how it’s going to be done. The lady can have my cabin, and I’ll take Purchas’s; you, Purchas,” turning to the mate, “can have the steward’s berth, and he’ll have to go into the fo’c’s’le. That can be managed easy enough; the question is, Where are we going to put you, mister?”
“Leslie,” quickly interjected the individual addressed, who was already beginning to feel very tired of being called simply “mister.”
“Mr Leslie—thank you,” ejaculated the skipper giving Leslie his name for the first time, in sheer confusion and astonishment at being so promptly pulled up. “As I was saying, the question is, Where can we put you? We haven’t a spare berth in the ship.”
“Pray do not distress yourself about that,” exclaimed Leslie; “any place will do for me. I am a sailor by profession, and have roughed it before to-day. The weather is quite warm; I can therefore turn in upon your cabin lockers at night if you can think of no better place in which to stow me.”