"Send 'em up, confound you," ses the mate, limping towards 'im.
Well, Joe give 'is shoulder a 'elpless sort o' shrug and walked forward and bawled down the fo'c's'le.
"They're coming, sir," he ses, walking back to the mate just as the skipper came out of 'is cabin.
We all went on with our work as 'ard as we knew 'ow. The skipper was talking to the mate about 'is injuries, and saying unkind things about Germans, when he give a sort of a shout and staggered back staring. We just looked round, and there was them two blackamoors coming slowly towards us.
"'GOOD HEAVENS, MR. FINGALL,' SES THE OLD MAN. 'WHAT'S THIS?'"
I never see sich a look on any man's face as I saw on the mate's then. Three times 'e opened 'is mouth to speak, and shut it ag'in without saying anything. The veins on 'is forehead swelled up tremendous and 'is cheeks was all blown out purple.
"That's Bill Cousins' hair," ses the skipper to himself. "It's Bill Cousins' hair. It's Bill Cus——"
Bob walked up to him, with Bill lagging a little way behind, and then he stops just in front of 'im and fetches up a sort o' little smile.
"Don't you make those faces at me, sir," roars the skipper. "What do you mean by it? What have you been doing to yourselves?"