“Don’t you remember when you two got lost, an’ me and Kitty were looking all over the place for you?” demanded the mate, still in the same tones of pleasant reminiscence.
He caught Hetty’s eye, and noticed with a thrill that it beamed with soft and respectful admiration.
“You’ve been drinking,” repeated the skipper, breathing hard. “How dare you talk like that afore my daughter?”
“It’s only right I should know,” said Hetty, drawing herself up. “I wonder what mother’ll say to it all?”
“You say anything to your mother if you dare,” said the now maddened skipper. “You know what she is. It’s all the mate’s nonsense.”
“I’m very sorry, cap’n,” said the mate, “if I’ve said anything to annoy you, or anyway hurt your feelings. O’ course it’s your business, not mine. Perhaps you’ll say you never heard o’ Bessie Watson?”
“Mother shall hear of her,” said Hetty, while her helpless sire was struggling for breath.
“Perhaps you’ll tell us who this Bessie Watson is, and where she lives?” he said at length.
“She lives with Kitty Loney,” said the mate simply.
The skipper rose, and his demeanour was so alarming that Hetty shrank instinctively to the mate for protection. In full view of his captain, the mate placed his arm about her waist, and in this position they confronted each other for some time in silence. Then Hetty looked up and spoke.