"Of course that alters it a bit," answered the bos'n thoughtfully, "we didn't know you could navigate, Miss."
"You don't suppose I should propose to take command otherwise?"
"That's what we was wondering. You see"—the bos'n became confidential—"some of us 'ave sailed in ships where the skipper's 'ad 'is wife aboard, and it's generally she what's done the bossing. Of course we know you ain't this skipper's wife, but all the same we thought as 'ow you might be wanting to try your 'and like."
"Well, you see the position now," said the girl. "Please explain it to the men, and let them understand that, while I am in charge of this ship, I am Captain and will be obeyed."
Without quite realising it, she had copied Calamity's curt and decisive manner, and this, together with the fact that they were really helpless in the matter, was not without its effect on the men. After a short discussion with the bos'n, they trooped off to their quarters, some sullen, others pulling their forelocks as they passed the girl.
"We'll carry out your orders, if you'll take the ship fair and square into Singapore," said the bos'n.
"Then that's agreed; I'll do my part as long as the crew do theirs."
"Very good, Miss," answered the bos'n, and he went for'ad in the wake of the men.
Feeling decidedly relieved, Dora Fletcher was about to go on the bridge when she caught sight of McPhulach standing at the fiddley door, having apparently just come off watch. Seeing her, he came forward, rubbing his hands on a piece of oily cotton-waste.
"You must have been getting a rough time of it down below," she said by way of greeting.