The homely interior looked very hospitable, with its table cleanly draped and pleasantly equipped with provisions. The coloured man who apparently acted as steward, and who bore the singular name of Punmeamootty, stood, a dusky shadow, near the cabin-door. In spite of a smoky sunset in the western windy haze, the gloom of the evening in the east was already upon the ocean, and the cabin, as we entered it, showed somewhat darksome to the sight; yet though the figure of the Malay, as I have already said, was no more than a shadow, I could distinctly see his gleaming eyes even from the distance of the companion steps; and I believe had it been much darker still I should have beheld his eyes looking at us from the other end of the cabin.
'Light the lamp, Punmeamootty!' said the Captain. 'Now, let me see,' said he, throwing his wideawake on to a locker; 'at sea we call the last meal supper, Miss Nielsen.'
'Yes, I know that,' she answered.
'Before we go to supper,' he continued, 'you would like to refresh yourself in a cabin. How about accommodating you, Mr. Tregarthen? That cabin is mine,' said he, pointing, 'and the one facing it is Mr. Jones's. There are four gloomy little holes below, one of which was occupied by poor Winstanley, and the others, I fear, are choke full of stores and odds and ends.' He eyed her for a moment meditatively. 'Come,' said he: 'you are a lady, and must be made comfortable, however short your stay with me may be. Mr. Jones will give up his cabin, and go into the steerage!'
'And Mr. Tregarthen?' said Helga.
'Oh, I'll set some of our darkeys after supper to make ready one of the berths below for him.'
'I do not wish to be separated from Mr. Tregarthen,' said Helga.
Captain Bunting looked at her, then at me, then at her left hand, for the coloured steward had now lighted the lamp and we were conversing close to it.
'You are Miss Nielsen?' said the Captain. 'Have I mistaken?'
The blood rose to the girl's cheek.