The visitor looked at him angrily. “What sort of a man is he?” she enquired, suddenly.
“You’ll soon know if he comes out,” said the mate. “He’s the worst-tempered man afloat, I should think. If he comes out and finds you here, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” said the other, with spirit. “What do you call him? Skipper?”
The mate nodded, and the visitor tapped loudly at the door. “Skipper!” she cried, “Skipper!”
No answer being vouchsafed, she repeated her cry in a voice louder than before.
“He’s a heavy sleeper,” said the perturbed Fraser; “better go away, there’s a good girl.”
The lady, scornfully ignoring him, rapped on the door and again called upon its occupant. Then, despite her assurance, she sprang back with a scream as a reply burst through the door with the suddenness and fury of a thunder-clap.
“Halloa!” it said.
“My goodness,” said the visitor, aghast. “What a voice! What a terrible voice!”
She recovered herself and again approached the door.