small
table, while a steady breathing assured her that somebody was sleeping
close by. Feeling her way to the table she discovered, a locker,
and, taking a seat, coughed gently. The breathing continuing quite
undisturbed, she coughed again, twice.

The breathing stopped suddenly. "Who the devil's that coughing?" asked a
surprised voice.

"I beg pardon, I'm sure," said the visitor, "but is there a Mr. Robinson
down here?"

The reply was so faint and smothered that she could not hear it. It was
evident that the speaker, a modest man, was now speaking from beneath
the bedclothes.

"Is Mr. Robinson here?" she repeated loudly.

"Never heard of him," said the smothered voice.

"It's my opinion," said the visitor, hotly, "that you're trying to
deceive me. Have you got a match?"

The owner of the voice said that he had not, and with chilly propriety
added that he wouldn't give it to her if he had. Whereupon the lady
rose, and, fumbling on the little mantel-piece, found a box and struck
one. There was a lamp nailed to the bulkhead over the mantel-piece, and
calmly removing the chimney, she lit it.

A red, excited face, with the bedclothes fast about its neck, appeared
in a small bunk and stared at her in speechless amaze. The visitor
returned his gaze calmly, and then looked carefully round the cabin.

"Where does that lead to?" she asked, pointing to the door of the
state-room.

The mate, remembering in time the mysterious behaviour of Flower,
considered the situation. "That's the pantry," he said, untruthfully.

The visitor rose and tried the handle. The door was locked, and she
looked doubtfully at the mate. "I suppose that's a leg of mutton I can
hear asleep in there," she said, with acerbity.

"You can suppose what you like," said the mate, testily; "why don't you
go away? I'm surprised at you."

"You'll be more surprised before I've done with you," said the lady,
with emotion. "My Fred's in there, and you know it."

"Your Fred!" said Fraser, in great surprise.

"Mr. Robinson," said the visitor, correcting herself.

"I tell you there's nobody in there except the skipper," said the mate.

"You said it was the pantry just now," exclaimed the other, sharply.

"The skipper sleeps in the pantry so's he can keep his eye on the meat,"
explained Fraser.

The visitor looked at him angrily. "What sort of a man is he?" she
enquired, suddenly.

"You'll soon know if he comes out," said the mate. "He's the
wors