“Oh, captain, take pity on me!” cried the supposed young man, tremulously. “For Heaven’s sake, take pity on me! I am a respectable married woman! My husband is Police-constable Hogan of the Newcastle police.”
The captain and mate were astounded, and for a moment could do nothing but stare at her. Then, seeing some of the men forward looking at them, Captain Monk said: “Come aft to the saloon and I will hear your story.”
When they got into the cabin Mrs. Hogan told how the authorities at Sydney had heard something of the doings of Sullivan and his crimps, and had sent her husband to the district to get evidence against him. She had assisted him before, and on this occasion had dressed up in her present clothes and joined the sailors in the dance room to watch Sullivan and his satellites.
“I called for a bottle of ginger-ale,” she said. “I watched him open the bottle, and I am sure there was nothing in the glass, for I saw it standing upside down on the counter; but I had not drunk it many minutes before I felt my head getting light, and I remember no more until I found myself on board this ship. I have abundant evidence against that blackguard Sullivan now, but it is no good as he is on board here. What shall I do? I have no clothes but these. I cannot go among those men.”
“Steamer ahead, sir! Coming this way,” rang out the cry.
“Aye, aye!”
Captain Monk took a look at her through the telescope.
“Run the ‘Urgent’ signal up!” he shouted. “It is the Union Company’s boat bound to Melbourne. I will send a letter and this woman on board. Back the mainyard, and get the boat out quick.”
Up went the signal, and the steamer bore down towards the ship. Her decks were crowded with passengers.
“You will go in the boat, Mrs. Hogan,” said the skipper, “and you had better explain things to the captain at once. My letter will tell him also. Mr. Patter, you go with the boat, and take four of our own hands with you. As soon as you give the letter to the captain, put this woman on board and return at once.”