“Will it do, d’ye think?” said the Captain to Mrs Gilmour; there was no need of his asking either of the children, their faces giving an unhesitating assent at once, as did Dick’s. “Eh, ma’am?”
“Certainly,” she replied, “if it suits you.”
“Then, that’s settled,” he decided. “There’s a new steamer, called the Bembridge Belle, I’ve seen advertised to run on an excursion to Seaview pier; and I think she will do very well for us; especially as she will go partly round the Island afterwards.”
“I can’t say I like excursion steamers,” observed Mrs Gilmour hesitatingly; “but if you think, as an experienced sailor, that she will be safe, of course I can have no objection. You know—I’m speaking more for the children’s sake than my own, being responsible to their parents for them.”
“Safe, ma’am, eh? Safe as houses!” replied the Captain, with much energy, stamping his foot on the floor as he spoke to give point to his assertion, his malacca cane not being within reach at the moment. “Otherwise, ma’am, I wouldn’t let you or the chickabiddies go in her for worlds!”
“You’re quite sure, Captain?”
“Faith, I’ll take my ‘davy,’ ma’am, she’s as staunch and sound as the old Bucephalus.”
“Say no more, Captain,” said Mrs Gilmour. “If she’s as safe as my poor Ted’s ship, she must be safe indeed, I know.”
“She is that, I believe, ma’am, on my honour.”
“All right then, Captain,” replied Mrs Gilmour to this. “We’ll consider the trip arranged, then, for to-morrow, eh?”