"Port Blair's nearer, sir, in South Andaman."
"But I'm more likely to find a fast steamer at Penang. And as to your daughter, captain, she'd better come along with us."
"In that what-you-may-call-it, sir?"
"Yes, certainly. We can easily carry her, and make a comfortable seat for her behind ours if you give us a cushion. We've come from London, so she needn't be afraid."
"From London! Near seven thousand miles! Jigger me if ever I heard the like of it! What do you think of that, Mr. McWhirter?"
"Rather a long un," replied the mate.
"Well, hang me, if you've come across the Bay of Bengal, you're sartin sure to be able to make Penang. She shall go with you, and that'll be one load off my mind. Go and fetch her, Mr. McWhirter. She's rather a superior gal, sir, though I say it myself. She's had a rattling good eddication; talks French like a native, and as for music and singing, I've never heard any gal as could touch her, that's a fact. Here she is."
Smith was not sorry that the outflow of paternal pride was checked. He wanted to get on. A girl of about twenty came forward with the mate. She was very self-possessed, and met Smith's look frankly.
"My daughter, Mr. ——. I don't know your name, sir," said the captain.
"My name's Smith." He doffed his cap.