“And uncles,” added the mate rebelliously.
“Very good,” said the skipper, glaring. “We’ll ship the other cook first and let him settle it. After all, I don’t see why we should fight his battles for him.”
The mate, being agreeable, went off at once; and when Mrs. Blossom, after a little shopping ashore, returned to the Gannet she found the galley in the possession of one of the fattest cooks that ever broke ship’s biscuit.
“Hullo!” said she, realising the situation at a glance, “what are you doing here?”
“Cooking,” said the other gruffly. Then, catching sight of his questioner, he smiled amorously and winked at her.
“Don’t you wink at me,” said Mrs. Blossom wrathfully. “Come out of that galley.”
“There’s room for both,” said the new cook persuasively. “Come in an’ put your ’ed on my shoulder.”
Utterly unprepared for this mode of attack, Mrs. Blossom lost her nerve, and, instead of storming the galley, as she had fully intended, drew back and retired to the cabin, where she found a short note from the skipper, enclosing her pay, and requesting her to take the train home. After reading this she went ashore again, returning presently with a big bundle, which she placed on the cabin table in front of Harris and the mate, who had just begun tea.
“I’m not going home by train,” said she, opening the bundle, which contained a spirit kettle and provisions. “I’m going back with you; but I am not going to be beholden to you for anything—I’m going to board myself.”
After this declaration she made herself tea and sat down. The meal proceeded in silence, though occasionally she astonished her companions by little mysterious laughs, which caused them slight uneasiness. As she made no hostile demonstration, however, they became reassured, and congratulated themselves upon the success of their manœuvre.