“Go back an’ fetch Miss Gething, o’ course,” said the boy, “an’ take her down to the ship. That’ll settle it.”
“By Jove! the boy’s right,” said the mate—“if there’s time.”
But the skipper had already started.
“You’re a very good boy, Henry,” said the mate approvingly. “Now go down and watch the Frolic again, and as soon as she starts getting under way run back and let us know. If she passes before he comes back I’ll hail her and try and find out what it all means.”
Meantime the skipper, half walking, half running, went on his way to Overcourt, arriving at Stagg’s Gardens in a breathless condition. Number five was fast asleep when he reached it and began a violent thumping upon the door.
“Who’s there? What do you want?” demanded a shrill voice as the window was thrown up and a female head protruded.
“I want to see that young lady I brought here a little while ago,” said the skipper—“quick.”
“What, at this time o’ night!” said the lady. “Be reasonable, young man, if you are sweethearting.”
“Something important,” said the skipper impatiently.
“Can’t you tell me what it is?” said the lady, who felt that she was in a position to have her curiosity satisfied.