The sailor was just going to tell her with more fluency than politeness when he was interrupted. “That’ll do,” said the skipper, who had come behind them. “Go for’ard, you. There’s been enough of this fooling; the lady thought you had taken the ship. Thompson, I’ll take the helm; there’s a little wind coming. Stand by there.”
He walked aft and relieved the steersman, awkwardly conscious that the men were becoming more and more interested in the situation, and also that Kate could hear some of their remarks. As he pondered over the subject, and tried to think of a way out of it, the cause of all the trouble came and stood by him.
“Did my father know of this?” she inquired.
“I don’t know that he did exactly,” said the skipper uneasily. “I just told him not to expect you back that night.”
“And what did he say?” said she.
“Said he wouldn’t sit up,” said the skipper, grinning, despite himself.
Kate drew a breath the length of which boded no good to her parent, and looked over the side.
“I was afraid of that traveller chap from Ipswich,” said Hezekiah, after a pause. “Your father told me he was hanging round you again, so I thought I—well, I was a blamed fool anyway.”
“See how ridiculous you have made me look before all these men,” said the girl angrily.
“They’ve been with me for years,” said Hezekiah apologetically, “and the mate said it was a magnificent idea. He quite raved about it, he did. I wouldn’t have done it with some crews, but we’ve had some dirty times together, and they’ve stood by me well. But of course that’s nothing to do with you. It’s been an adventure I’m very sorry for, very.”