'The lady looks but poorly,' said Abraham, with his eyes fixed upon Helga, though he addressed me. 'Some people has their allowance of grief sarved out all at once. I earnestly hope, lady, that life's agoing to luff up with you now, and lead ye on a course that won't take long to bring ye to the port of joyfulness.'
He nodded at her emphatically, with as much sympathy in his countenance as his weather-tanned flesh would suffer him to exhibit.
'We have had a hard time,' she answered gently.
'Much too hard for any girl to go through,' said I. 'Men, you must know this lady to be a complete sailor. She can take the wheel; she can sound the well; she has a nerve of steel at a moment that would send a good many who consider themselves stout-hearted to their prayers. It is not the usage of the sea, Abraham, that makes her look poorly, as you say.'
I noticed Jacob leaning forward with his hands upon his knees, staring at her. Suddenly he smacked his leg with the sound of a pistol-shot.
'Why, yes!' he cried: 'now I'm sure of it. Wasn't you once a boy, mum?'
'What!' cried Abraham, turning indignantly upon him.
A faint blush entered Helga's face.
'What I mean is,' continued Jacob, 'when I last see ye, you was dressed up as a boy!'
'Yes,' said I, 'yes. And what then?'