luctantly still to promise his aid to the most unscrupulous
extent possible.

"I'll write to you when I'm fixed up," said the skipper, "giving you
my new name and address. You're the only person I shall be able to keep
touch with. I shall have to rely upon you for everything. If it wasn't
for you I should be dead to the world."

"I know what you'll do as well as possible," said Fraser; "you've got
nothing to do for six months, and you'll be getting into some more
engagements."

"I don't think you have any call to say that, Jack," remarked Flower,
with some dignity.

"Well, I wish it was well over," said the mate, despondently. "What are
you going to do for money?"

"I drew out L40 to get married with--furniture and things," said Flower;
"that'll go overboard with me, of course. I'm doing all this for Poppy's
sake more than my own, and I want you to go up and see her every trip,
and let me know how she is. She mightn't care what happened to her if
she thinks I'm gone, and she might marry somebody else in desperation."

"I don't care about facing her," said Fraser, bitterly; "it's a shady
business altogether."

"It's for her sake," repeated Flower, calmly, "Take on old Ben as mate,
and ship another hand forward."

The mate ended the subject by going to his bunk and turning in; the
skipper, who realised that he himself would have plenty of time for
sleep, went on deck and sat silently smoking. Old Ben was at the wheel,
and the skipper felt a glow of self-rightousness as he thought of the
rise in life he was about to give the poor fellow.

At eight o'clock the mate relieved Ben, and the skipper with a view of
keeping up appearances announced his intention of turning in for a bit.

The sun went down behind clouds of smoky red, but the light of the
summer evening lasted for some time after. Then darkness came down over
the sea, and it was desolate except for the sidelights of distant craft.
The mate drew out his watch and by the light of the binnacle-lamp, saw
that it was ten minutes to ten. At the same moment he heard somebody
moving about forward.

"Who's that for'ard?" he cried, smartly.

"Me, sir," answered Joe's voice. "I'm a bit wakeful, and it's stiflin'
'ot down below."

The mate hesitated, and then, glancing at the open skylight, saw the
skipper, who was standing on the table.

"Send him below," said the latter, in a sharp whisper.

"You'd better get below, Joe," said the mate.

"W'y, I ain't doi