ll appeared on deck. Joe closed the scuttle, and
with despair gnawing at his vitals sat on it.

Unconscious of the interest she was exciting, Poppy Tyrell, who had
tired of the solitude of the cabin, took a seat on a camp-stool, and,
folding her hands in her lap, sat enjoying the peace and calm of the
summer evening. Joe saw defeat in the very moment of victory; even while
he sat, the garrulous Tommy might be revealing State secrets to the
credulous Flower.

"Get her down below," he whispered, fiercely, to Mr. Green. "Quick!"

His friend stared at him aghast, but made no movement. He looked at the
unconscious Poppy, and then back at the mouthing figure seated on the
scuttle. His brain was numbed. Then a little performance on Charlie's
part a week or two before, which had cost that gentleman his berth,
occurred to him, and he moved slowly forward.

For a moment the astonished Joe gazed at him in wrathful bewilderment;
then his brow cleared, and his old estimate of his friend was revived
again. Mr. Green lurched rather than walked, and, getting as far as the
galley, steadied himself with one hand, and stood, with a foolish smile,
swaying lightly in the breeze. From the galley he got with great care to
the side of the ship opposite Poppy, and, clutching the shrouds, beamed
on her amiably. The girl gave one rapid glance at him and then, as he
tottered to the wheel and hung on by the spokes, turned her head away.
What it cost the well-bred Mr. Green to stagger as he came by her
again and then roll helplessly at her feet, will never be known, and
he groaned in spirit as the girl, with one scornful glance in his
direction, rose quietly and went below again.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, he rose to his feet and signalled
hurriedly to Joe, then he mounted sentry over the companion, grinning
feebly at the success of his manoeuvres as he heard a door closed and
locked below.

"You pull me round to the wharf, Joe," said Flower, as he tumbled
hurriedly into the boat. "I don't want to run into Fraser, and I just
want to give old George the tip to keep quiet for a day or two."

The seaman obeyed readily, and exchanged a triumphant glance with Mr.
Green as they shot by the steamer's stern. His invention was somewhat
tried by Flower's questions on the way to the wharf, but he answered
them satisfactorily, and left him standing on the jetty imparting to
George valuable thoughts on the maxim that speech is silver and silence