The engineer took the paper and read it with extreme care. It was to the effect that, during her command of the Hawk, Dora Fletcher agreed that Phineas McPhulach, chief engineer of that vessel, should receive a pound a month extra pay.
"Aye," he murmured, handing it back to her, "ye'll be guid enough tae sign it, please."
The girl did so, and McPhulach waved it gently to and fro to dry the ink.
"So ye've made ye'r intentions known tae the crew," he remarked.
"Yes."
"An' hoo did they tak' it?"
"Not very well at first. I shouldn't be surprised if some of them tried to make trouble, especially as they know we have treasure aboard."
"Aye, I shouldna be sairprised. Sic an ungodly lot o' heathen I've never sailed wi' before. But ye're a michty plucky lassie. Mind, ye're no me ideal of a woman, but gin it wasna that I'm a wee bit confused in me matrimonial obligations I dinna say that I wouldna marry ye mesel'."
"It's good of you, I'm sure."
"Nae, nae, dinna thank me," answered McPhulach hastily, "I wasna meanin' to propose tae ye. It jest crossed me mind like that ye'd mak' a guid wife gin ye was properly trained." He rose to his feet and yawned. "I'm for turnin' in," he said, "so I'll be wishin' ye guid nicht, Miss Fletcher."