The skipper hitched up his trousers impressively while his passengers stood at either hand.
“Carrie,” said he, solemnly, “we’ll stand by to tack ship at seven bells,—an’—an’—and after that we’ll make the rest of the voyage in company. Hey? How does that strike you, my girl?”
“Mercy! What a man you are, Captain Breeze!” said Carrie, blushing crimson. “Sure it’s sort of sudden like.”
“You’ll have half an hour to get ready in,” said the skipper.
“Plenty of time,” chimed in McCloud.
“An’ an aisy toime iver afterwards as th’ capt’in’s leddy,” said O’Hara, with dignity.
“But who’s to marry us?” asked the maiden, shyly, glancing at the skipper.
“I’m to marry you,” said Jimmy Breeze. “It’s law and it’s all right. I’m master of this here hooker, and what I says goes aboard, or ashore either, for that matter. It’s put down in that yaller book, an’ it’s law.”
“Land sakes! I never could, Captain Breeze,—really, now, not before these people,—I never could in the world.” And Carrie blushed furiously.
“You passed your word last night, so I holds you in honor bound,” said Breeze, with great fervor. “You have half an hour, so I leaves you.” And he drew himself up and strode to the companion, and so up on the main-deck out of sight.