There was a great shout from the other side of the cabin, and in the gloom she saw something spring up and come towards her. Something which caught her in a mighty grasp and crushed her soft face against a long, stiff beard. Laughing and crying together she put her arms about its neck and clung to it convulsively.
“There, there, my lass!” said Captain Gething at last.
“We only stopped you by a miracle,” said Annis hysterically. “The Seamew is alongside, and why you wanted to run away again I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand,” said Captain Gething wearily.
“You can understand that I wouldn’t take you into danger,” said Annis tenderly. “Put your coat on and come with me.”
Without another word Captain Gething did as he was bid. He stopped, as though to speak to Tillotson, and then thinking better of it, followed his daughter on deck.
“I’m not coming with you, cap’n,” he said as that ardent mariner passed them rolling a barrel along the deck.
“A’ right,” said the other briefly; “you won’t get your money back.”
In a shamefaced fashion Captain Gething, still holding his daughter’s arm, stepped on board the Seamew and shook hands with its master. By the time he was half through his story there was a burning desire on the part of the skipper to go down and have a look at Tillotson—a desire peremptorily checked by Annis, who had an erroneous opinion concerning that gentleman’s identity, and the Frolic having taken in its herrings, sheered off with a friendly good-night. The crew of the Seamew watched her until she had her anchor up, and then, at the impatient suggestion of Henry, who was stage managing, went below.
“Are you satisfied now?” inquired Wilson in a low voice, as Captain Gething, with a wisdom born of years, went slowly below.