“I was only thinking of getting away at first,” said Smith, “and I had to take what was offered.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can for you,” said the seaman. “If you’re in love, you ain’t responsible for your actions. I remember the first time I got the chuck. I went into a public-house bar, and smashed all the glass and bottles I could get at. I felt as though I must do something. If you were only shorter, I’d lend you some clothes.”
“You’re a brick,” said the soldier gratefully.
“I haven’t got any money I could lend you either,” said Joe. “I never do have any, somehow. But clothes you must have.”
He fell into deep thought, and cocked his eye aloft as though contemplating a cutting-out expedition on the sails, while the soldier, sitting on the side of the ship, waited hopefully for a miracle.
“You’d better get below again,” said Joe presently.
“There seems to be somebody moving below; and if the skipper sees you, you’re done. He’s a regular Tartar, and he’s got a brother what’s a sergeant-major in the army. He’d give you up d’rectly if he spotted you.”
“I’m off,” said Smith; and with long, cat-like strides he disappeared swiftly below.
For two days all went well, and Dan was beginning to congratulate himself upon his little venture, when his peace of mind was rudely disturbed. The crew were down below, having their tea, when Billy, who had been to the galley for hot water, came down, white and scared.
“Look here,” he said nervously, “I’ve not had anything to do with this chap being aboard, have I?”