“I said I ’adn’t got the pleasure o’ Mr. Robinson’s acquaintance,” said Tim, with a grand air. “I was just goin’ to tell ’em about you when Joe ’ere gave me a pinch.”
“Well?” enquired the skipper, stamping with impatience.
“I pinched ’im back agin,” said Tim, smiling tenderly at the reminiscence.
“Tim’s a fool, sir,” said Joe, suddenly, as the overwrought skipper made a move towards the galley. “’E didn’t seem to know wot ’e was a sayin’ of, so I up and told ’em all about you.”
“You did, did you? Damn you,” said Flower, bitterly.
“In answer to their questions, sir,” said Joe, “I told ’em you was a bald-headed chap, marked with the small-pox, and I said when you was at ’ome, which was seldom, you lived at Aberdeen.”
The skipper stepped towards him and laid his hand affectionately on his shoulder. “You ought to have been an admiral, Joe,” he said, gratefully, without intending any slur on a noble profession.
“I also told George, the watchman, to tell ’em the same thing, if they came round again worrying,” said Joe, proudly.
The skipper patted him on the shoulder again.
“One o’ these days, Joe,” he remarked, “you shall know all about this little affair; for the present it’s enough to tell you that a certain unfortunate young female has took a fancy to a friend o’ mine named Robinson, but it’s very important, for Robinson’s sake, that she shouldn’t see me or get to know anything about me. Do you understand?”