. There was a slushing and swishing and
gasping and blowing now, which might have done credit to a school of
porpoises. The Captain was washing. Something between the flapping of
a main top-sail in a shifting squall and the currying of a hippopotamus
indicated that the Captain was drying himself. The process was
interrupted by an unusual, though not quite unknown, crash and a howl;
he had overturned the wash-hand basin, and a double thump, followed by
heavy dabs, told that the Captain was on his knees swabbing it up.

Next instant the Captain's head, with beard and hair in a tremendously
rubbed-up condition, appeared upside down at the hatchway.

"Hallo! old girl, has she sprung a leak anywhere?"

"Nowhere," replied Mrs Roby, with a quiet smile. She felt the question
to be unnecessary. "She," that is, the roof above her, never did leak
in such circumstances. If the Thames had suddenly flooded the garret,
the Captain's energy was sufficient to have swabbed it up in time to
prevent a drop reaching "the lower deck."

Soon after this catastrophe there was a prolonged silence. The Captain
was reading. Mrs Roby shut her eyes and joined him in spirit.
Thereafter the Captain's feet appeared at the trap where his head had
been, and he descended with a final and tremendous crash to the floor.

"See here, mother," he cried, with a look of delight, holding up a very
soiled and crumpled letter, "that's from Willum."

"From William," exclaimed the old woman, eagerly; "why, when did you get
it? the postman can't have been here this morning."

"Of course he hasn't; I got it last night from the limb-o'-the-law that
looks after my little matters. I came in late, and you were asleep, so
I kep' it to whet yer appetite for breakfast. Now listen, you must take
it first; I'll get you breakfast afterwards."

The Captain had by this time got into the way of giving the old woman
her breakfast in bed every morning.

"Go on," said the old woman, nodding.

The Captain spread out the letter on his knee with great care, and read
aloud:--

"My Dear Wopper, Got yer letter all right.

"My blissin' to the poor widdy. Help her? ov coorse I'll help her.
You did right in advancin' the money, though you fell short, by a long
way, when you advanced so little. Hows'ever, no matter. I gave you
my last will an' testimony w'en we parted. Here's a noo un. Inside
o' this, if I don't forget it before I've done, you'll find a