"That we don't know. It didn't come into our heads to axe for he."
"Well, we'd better go up and put the question. Step out, messmates."
Mr. Polwhele's men returned with them, in the hope that the bold sailors would ask for the grog, which their modesty had missed. The door was again opened by Susan.
"Now, my dear," said the boatswain, "we won't keep you in the cold. Just answer a little question. Is Mr. Mildmay aboard?"
"Dear life! First Mr. Polwhele, now Mr. Mildmay. No, sailorman, they both wented out together, a minute arter clock strook nine."
"Bless your pretty face! Well, messmates, we've had our cruise for nothing, unless this lovely lass will give us something to drink her health in."
"Here's Maister!" cried Susan, stepping aside hastily as John Trevanion came to the door.
"Well, my men, what's this?" he asked genially.
"Please yer honour," began Pollard.
"Avast there!" cried the boatswain. "Mr. Mildmay was to come aboard by three bells, sir, and seeing he was late, we made bold to come up here for orders."