"What's the matter with old Satan?" said the mate, who had been let into
the secret. "He seems to have something on his mind."
"He'll have something round his neck presently," said the skipper
grimly.
The prophecy was fulfilled some three hours later, when he came up on
deck ruefully regarding the remains of a bird whose vocabulary had once
been the pride of its native town. He threw it overboard without a word,
and then, seizing the innocent cat, who had followed him under the
impression that it was about to lunch, produced half a brick attached to
a string, and tied it round his neck. The crew, who were enjoying the
joke immensely, raised a howl of protest.
"The Skylark'll never have another like it, sir," said Sam solemnly.
"That cat was the luck of the ship."
"I don't want any of your old woman's yarns," said the skipper brutally.
"If you want the cat, go and fetch it."
He stepped aft as he spoke, and sent the gentle stranger hurtling
through the air. There was a "plomp" as it reached the water, a bubble
or two came to the surface, and all was over.
"That's the last o' that," he said, turning away.
The old man shook his head. "You can't kill a black cat for nothing,"
said he, "mark my words!"
The skipper, who was in a temper at the time, thought little of them,
but they recurred to him vividly the next day.
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