The man put his hand in the sack, and pulled out the clothes. “What do you think of ’em?” he asked expectantly.
The captain strove vainly to tell him, but his tongue mercifully forsook its office, and dried between his lips. His brain rang with sentences of scorching iniquity, but they got no further.
“Well, say thank you, if you can’t say nothing else,” suggested his tormentor hopefully.
“I couldn’t bring nothing else,” said Tommy hurriedly; “all the things was locked up. I tried to swop ’em and nearly got locked up for it. Put these on and hurry up.”
The captain moistened his lips with his tongue.
“The mate’ll get off directly she floats,” continued Tommy. “Put these on and spoil his little game. It’s raining a little now. Nobody’ll see you, and as soon as you git aboard you can borrow some of the men’s clothes.”
“That’s the ticket, cap’n,” said the man. “Lord lumme, you’ll ’ave everybody falling in love with you.”
“Hurry up,” said Tommy, dancing with impatience. “Hurry up.”
The skipper, dazed and wild-eyed, stood still while his two assistants hastily dressed him, bickering somewhat about details as they did so.
“He ought to be tight-laced, I tell you,” said the man.