“Keep orf,” repeated the trembling seaman.
His fear was so great that Mr. Green, who had regarded him as a tower of strength and courage, and had wormed himself into the tall seaman’s good graces by his open admiration of these qualities, stood appalled at his idol’s sudden lack of spirit.
“Don’t be a fool, Joe,” said the skipper, sharply; “can’t you see it’s me?”
“I thought you was drownded,” said the trembling seaman, still regarding him suspiciously. “I thought you was a ghost.”
“Feel that,” said Flower, and gave him a blow in the ribs which almost made him regret that his first impression was not the correct one.
“I’m satisfied, sir,” he said, hastily.
“I was picked up and carried off to Riga: but for certain reasons I needn’t go into, I want my being alive kept a dead secret. You mustn’t breathe a word to anybody, d’ye understand? Not a word.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Joe; “you hear that, Will-yum?”
“Who the devil’s this?” demanded the skipper, who had not bargained for another confidant.
“It’s the new ’and, sir,” said Joe. “I’ll be answerable for ’im.”