“I’m very sorry, but you can’t see him, mum,” said the skipper politely.
“Ho! carn’t I,” said the lady, raising her voice a little. “You go an’ tell him that his lawful wedded wife, what he deserted, is aboard.”
“It ’ud be no good, mum,” said the skipper, who felt the full dramatic force of the situation, “I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen to you.”
“Ho! I think I can persuade ’im a bit,” said the lady, drawing in her lips. “Where is ’e?”
“Up aloft,” said the skipper, removing his hat.
“Don’t you give me none of your lies,” said the lady, as she scanned both masts closely.
“He’s dead,” said the skipper solemnly.
His visitor threw up her arms and staggered back. The cook was nearest, and, throwing his arms round her waist, he caught her as she swayed. The mate, who was of a sympathetic nature, rushed below for whisky, as she sank back in the hatchway, taking the reluctant cook with her.
“Poor thing!” said the skipper.
“Don’t ’old ’er so tight, cook,” said one of the men. “There’s no necessity to squeeze ’er.”