“Why, what are you turning about like that for?” exclaimed one of the exasperated attendants, who stood ready with the helmet.
“His head’s turned wi’ fear, an’ he’s a-follerin’ of it,” growled the boatswain.
“Why don’t you sit down?” said the attendant.
“Are you ready?” asked Edgar, in a low gruff voice.
“Of course I am—don’t you see me?”
Another happy idea came into Edgar’s head at that moment. He pulled his red night-cap well down over his eyes, and sat down with a crash, while another hearty laugh greeted his supposed eccentricity.
“Hallo, I say, you’re not going to be hanged—no need to draw it down like that,” said the first officer.
“Drowning comes much to the same thing; let’s do it decently—according to rule,” retorted Edgar, with a grin that displayed a brilliant set of teeth.
“H’m! We shan’t see him now,” whispered Lintie, in disappointment, forcing her way once more to the front.
This time there was no reply from Aileen, for a strange shock passed through her as she observed the momentary smile—and no wonder, for many a time had that same mouth smiled upon her with winning tenderness.