g summer's day gave place to night, fell to wondering where his
own mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got to. Lights which had
been struggling with the twilight now burnt bright and strong, and the
skipper, moving from the shadow to where a band of light fell across the
deck, took out a worn silver watch and saw that it was ten o'clock.

Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and
began to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-two
sprang nimbly to the deck.

"Ten o'clock, Ted," said the skipper, slowly. "It 'll be eleven in an
hour's time," said the mate, calmly.

"That 'll do," said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed
that his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position,
and a fortuitous expression of his mother's occurred to him: "Don't talk
to me; I've been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour."

"Bargee," said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice.

"Don't take no notice of him, Ted," said the skipper, pityingly.

"He wasn't talking to me," said Ted. "But never mind about him; I want
to speak to you in private."

"Fire away, my lad," said the other, in a patronizing voice.

"Speak up," said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. "I'm
listening."

There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin,
and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seat
on a locker, and again requested the other to fire away.

"Well, you see, it's this way," began the mate, with a preliminary
wriggle: "there's a certain young woman--"

"A certain young what?" shouted the master of the Arabella.

"Woman," repeated the mate, snappishly; "you've heard of a woman afore,
haven't you? Well, there's a certain young woman I'm walking out
with I--"

"Walking out?" gasped the skipper. "Why, I never 'eard o' such a
thing."

"You would ha' done if you'd been better looking, p'raps," retorted the
other. "Well, I've offered this young woman to come for a trip with us."

"Oh, you have, 'ave you!" said the skipper, sharply. "And what do you
think Louisa will say to it?"

"That's your look out," said Louisa's brother, cheerfully. "I'll make
her up a bed for'ard, and we'll all be as happy as you please."

He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series
of whistles of the most amatory description.

"There she is," he said. "I told her to