“Lost his balance?” gasped the horrified Miss Pilbeam.
The skipper was flattered at her concern. “You would have laughed if you had seen him,” he said, smiling. “Don't look so frightened; he hasn't got me yet.”
“No,” said the girl, slowly. “Not yet.”
She gazed at him with such a world of longing in her eyes that the skipper, despite a somewhat large share of self-esteem, was almost startled.
“And he shan't have me,” he said, returning her gaze with interest.
Miss Pilbeam stood in silent thought. She was a strong, well-grown girl, but she realized fully that she was no match for the villain who stood before her, twisting his moustache and adjusting his neck-tie. And her father would not be off duty until nine.
“I suppose you would like to wait here until it is dark?” she said at last.
“I would sooner wait here than anywhere,” said the skipper, with respectful ardor.
“Perhaps you would like to come in and sit down?” said the girl.
Captain Bligh thanked her, and removing his cap followed her into a small parlor in the front of the house.