oh, such a long way,'
she said, or something of that sort."

"Aye, and right, too. A derned long way she meant, I don't doubt, if
what was in her mind came out," puts in Peter at this.

"Mr. Bligh," said I, "be pleased to hold your tongue until your opinion
is asked. What I am telling you is a confidence which you two, and no
others, share with me. To-morrow, as soon as daylight, I shall row
ashore and ask to see Mme. Czerny, as I suppose I must call little Ruth
now. If she says, 'Go home again,' very well, home we go with good
wages in our pockets. If she says 'Stay,' there's not a man on board
this ship that will not stay willingly--she being married to a
foreigner, which all the world knows is not the same as being married
to an Englishman----"

"To say nothing of an Irishman," said Peter Bligh, whose mother was
from Dublin and whose father was named sometimes for a man of
Rotherhithe and at other times put down to any country which it suited
Peter to boast about.

"Edmond Czerny was a Hungarian," said I, "and he played the fiddle
wonderful. What mad idea took him for a honeymoon to Ken's Island, the
Lord only knows. They say he was many years in America. I know nothing
about him, save that he had a civil tongue and manners to catch a young
girl's fancy. She was only twenty-two when she married him, Mister
Jacob."

"Old enough to know better--quite old enough to know better. Not that I
would say anything against Ruth Bellenden, not a word. It's the woman's
part to play the capers, sir, and we poor mortal men to be took by
them. Howsomever, since there was a fiddle in it, I've nothing more to
say."

We laughed at Mister Jacob's notion, and Peter Bligh said what it was
in my heart to say:

"Saving that if Ruth Bellenden needs a friend, she'll find twenty-six
aboard this ship, to say nothing of the cook's boy and the dog. You've
a nice mind, Mister Jacob, but you've a deal to larn when it comes to
women. My poor old father, who hailed from Shoreham----"

"It was Newport yesterday, Peter."

"Aye, so it were--so it were. But, Newport or Shoreham, he'd a precious
good notion of the sex, and what he said I'll stand by. 'Get 'em on
their feet to the music,' says he, 'and you can lead 'em anywheres.'
'Tis Gospel truth that, Mister Jacob."

"But a man had better mind his steps," said I. "For my part, I
shouldn't be surprised if Ruth Bellenden's husband gave us the cold
shoulder to-morrow and sent us about our bus