“Well, we’d like to see him,” said Mrs. Tipping, after a pause.
“You see, you put me in a difficulty,” said Fraser; “if the skipper doesn’t come aboard, you’re going with us, I understand?”
Mrs. Tipping nodded. “Exactly,” she said, sharply.
“That’ll get me into trouble, if anything will,” said the mate, gloomily. “On the other hand, if I tell you where he is now, that’ll get me into trouble, too.”
He sat back and drummed on the table with his fingers. “Well, I’ll risk it,” he said, at length; “you’ll find him at 17, Beaufort Street, Bow.”
The younger woman sprang excitedly to her feet, but Mrs. Tipping, eyeing the young man with a pair of shrewd, small eyes, kept her seat.
“And while we’re going, how do we know the capt’n won’t come back and go off with the ship?” she enquired.
Fraser hesitated. “Well, I’ll come with you, if you like,” he said, slowly.
“And suppose they go away and leave you, behind?” objected Mrs. Tipping.
“Oh, well, you’d better stay then,” said the mate, wearily, “unless we take a couple of the hands with us. How would that suit you? They can’t sail with half a crew.”