"I didn't know him," attested Mr. Stobell, continuing to regard Mr. Chalk with much interest.
"I can't make head or tail of it," complained Mr. Chalk. "What about the ladies?"
Captain Brisket shook his head dismally and pointed ashore, and Mr. Chalk, following the direction of his finger, gazed spellbound at a figure which was signalling wildly from the highest point. Tredgold and Stobell, approaching the side, waved their handkerchiefs in response.
"We must go back for them," said Mr. Chalk, firmly.
"What! in this wind, sir?" inquired Brisket, with an indulgent laugh. "You're too much of a sailor to think that's possible, I'm sure; and it's going to last."
"We must put up with the disappointment and do without'em," said Stobell.
Mr. Chalk gazed helplessly ashore. "But we've got their luggage," he cried.
"Duckett sent it ashore," said Brisket. "Thinking that there was men's work ahead, and that the ladies might be in the way, he put it over the side and sent it back. And mind, believing what he did, I'm not saying he wasn't in the right."
Mr. Chalk again professed his inability to make head or tail of the proceedings. Ultimately—due time having been given for Captain Brisket's invention to get under way—he learned that a dyspeptic seaman, mistaking the mate's back for that of the cook, had first knocked his cap over his eyes and then pushed him over. "And that, of course," concluded the captain, "couldn't be allowed anyway, but, seeing that it was a mistake, we let the chap off."
"There's one thing about it," said Tredgold, as Chalk was about to speak; "it's shown us the stuff you're made of, Chalk."