“I don't believe he would,” said the mate. “Look here!” he said, suddenly, as he laid an affectionate arm on the old man's shoulder. “I know what we'll do.”
“Well?” said Mr. Smith.
“I'll save you,” said the mate, with a smile of great relief.
“Save me?” said the puzzled Mr. Smith, as his daughter uttered a faint cry. “How?”
“Just as I saved him,” said the other, nodding. “You jump in, and after you've sunk twice—same as he did—I'll dive in and save you. At any rate I'll do my best; I promise you I won't come ashore without you.”
Mr. Smith hastily flung off the encircling arm and retired a few paces inland. “'Ave you—ever been—in a lunatic asylum at any time?” he inquired, as soon as he could speak.
“No,” said the mate, gravely.
“Neither 'ave I,” said Mr. Smith; “and, what's more, I'm not going.”
He took a deep breath and stood simmering. Miss Smith came forward and, with a smothered giggle, took the mate's arm and squeezed it.
“It'll have to be Arthur again, then,” said the latter, in a resigned voice.