Once under way the day passed uneventfully, the schooner crawling
sluggishly down the coast of Wales, and, when the skipper turned in that
night, it was with the pleasant conviction that Mrs. Blossom had shot
her last bolt, and, like a sensible woman, was going to accept her
defeat. From this pleasing idea he was aroused suddenly by the watch
stamping heavily on the deck overhead.
"What's up?" cried the skipper, darting up the companion-ladder, jostled
by the mate.
"I dunno," said Bill, who was at the wheel, shakily. "Mrs. Blossom come
up on deck a little while ago, and since then there's been three or four
heavy splashes."
"She can't have gone overboard," said the skipper, in tones to which he
manfully strove to impart a semblance of anxiety. "No, here she is.
Anything wrong, Mrs. Blossom?"
"Not so far as I'm concerned," replied the lady, passing him and going
below.
"You've been dreaming, Bill," said the skipper sharply.
"I ain't," said Bill stoutly. "I tell you I heard splashes. It's my
belief she coaxed the cook up on deck, and then shoved him overboard. A
woman could do anything with a man like that cook."
"I'll soon see," said the mate, and walking forward he put his head down
the fore-scuttle and yelled for the cook.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered a voice sleepily, while the other men started
up in their bunks.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212