The captain stared at him in bewilderment.
“He had a wonderful way with wimmen,” pursued Jackson hastily; “you’ve got a wonderful way with wimmen. More than that, you’ve got the most wonderful gift for acting I’ve ever seen. Ever since the time when you acted in that barn at Bristol I’ve never seen any actor I can honestly say I’ve liked—never! Look how you can imitate cats—better than Henry Irving himself!”
“I never had much chance, being at sea all my life,” said Crippen modestly.
“You’ve got the gift,” said Pepper impressively. “It was born in you, and you’ll never leave off acting till the day of your death. You couldn’t if you tried—you know you couldn’t!”
The captain smiled deprecatingly.
“Now, I want you to do a performance for my benefit,” continued Pepper. “I want you to act Cap’n Budd, what was lost in the Dolphin thirty years ago. There’s only one man in England I’d trust with the part, and that’s you.”
“Act Cap’n Budd!” gasped the astonished Crippen, putting down his glass and staring at his friend.
“The part is written here,” said the ex-pilot, producing a note-book from his breast pocket and holding it out to his friend. “I’ve been keeping a log day by day of all the things she said about him, in the hopes of catching her tripping, but I never did. There’s notes of his family, his ships, and a lot of silly things he used to say, which she thinks funny.”
“I couldn’t do it!” said the captain seriously, as he took the book.
“You could do it if you liked,” said Pepper. “Besides, think what a spree it’ll be for you. Learn it by heart, then come down and claim her. Her name’s Martha.”