'And yet he was going to Australia!' cried the Captain, tossing his pale, fleshly hands and upturning his eyes. 'Still, he is a respectable man?'
'A large-hearted, good man,' cried Helga warmly.
He surveyed her again thoughtfully with his head on one side, slowly combing down one whisker, then addressing me:
'I am rather awkwardly situated,' said he. 'Mr. Ephraim Jones and myself are the only two white men aboard this vessel. Jones is an only mate. You know what that means?'
I shook my head in my ignorance, with a glance at Helga.
'Captain Bunting means,' she answered, smiling, 'that only mate is literally the only mate that is carried in a ship.'
He stared at her with lifted eyebrows, and then gave her a bow.
'Right, madam,' said he. 'And when you are married, dear lady, you will take all care, I trust, that your husband shall be your only mate.'
She slightly coloured, and as she swayed to the rolling deck I caught sight of her little foot petulantly beating the plank for a moment. It was clear that Captain Bunting was not going to commend himself to her admiration by his wit.
'You were talking about Abraham,' said I.