The mate restrained himself, but with difficulty.
“And what’ll he do when she does come out?” he demanded.
“Nothin’,” replied the seer with conviction. “What are you lookin’ for?” he inquired, with a trace of anxiety in his voice, as the mate rose from the locker, and, raising the lid, began groping for something in the depths.
“Bit o’ rope,” was the reply.
“Well, what did yer ask me for?” said Henry with hasty tearfulness. “It’s the truth. ’E won’t do nothin’; ’e never does—only stares.”
“D’you mean to say you ain’t been gammoning me?” demanded the mate, seizing him by the collar.
“Come and see for yourself,” said Henry.
The mate released him, and stood eyeing him with a puzzled expression as a thousand-and-one little eccentricities on the part of the skipper suddenly occurred to him.
“Go and make yourself tidy,” he said sharply; “and mind if I find you’ve been doing me I’ll flay you alive.”
The boy needed no second bidding. He dashed up on deck and, heedless of the gibes of the crew, began a toilet such as he had never before been known to make within the memory of man.