the quay too. Fifty yards beyond the _Seamew_ he found
a post, and leaning against it with his friend, anxiously watched the
deck of the schooner.

"There's three of 'em going ashore," said Tillotson suddenly. "Look!"

They watched breathlessly as the crew walked slowly off, and, dusk
coming on, approached a little closer.

"There's that fellow Wilson," said Glover, in a whisper. "Don't look!"

"Well, what's the use of telling me?" said Tillotson reasonably.

"He's going ashore with another chap," continued Glover excitedly--
"the mate, I expect. Now's your chance. Get him away, and I'll stand you
something handsome--upon my soul I will!"

"What do you call something handsome?" inquired Tillotson, whose pulse
was not so feverish as his friend's.

"Get him safe to London and I'll stand a fiver," said Glover. "Now go.
I'll stay here."

Mr. Tillotson, having got matters on a business footing, went, and,
carelessly twisting his small moustache, slowly approached the schooner,
on the deck of which was a small boy.

"Is Captain Gething aboard, old man?" inquired Mr. Tillotson, in a
friendly voice.

"Down the cabin, I b'lieve," said Henry, jerking his thumb.

"I should like to see him," said Mr. Tillotson.

"I've got no objection," said Henry.

Charmed with his success, Mr. Tillotson stepped aboard and looked
carelessly round.

"He's an old friend of mine," he said confidentially. "What's that
you're smoking?"

"Shag," was the reply.

"Try a cigar," said Mr. Tillotson, producing three in an envelope.
"You'll find them rather good."

The gratified Henry took one, and, first crackling it against his
ear, smelt it knowingly, while Mr. Tillotson, in a leisurely fashion,
descended to the cabin.

A tea-tray and an untidy litter of cups and saucers stood on the table,
at the end of which sat an old man with his folded hands resting on the
table.

"Good-evening," said Mr. Tillotson, pausing at the doorway and peering
through the gloom to make sure that there was nobody else present. "All
alone?"

"All alone," repeated Captain Gething, looking up and wondering who this
might be.

"It's too dark to see you far," said Tillotson, in a mysterious whisper,
"but it's Captain Gething, ain't it?"

"That's me," said the Captain uneasily.

"Going to Northfleet?" inquired Mr. Tillotson in another whisper.

"What do you mean?" inquired the captain quickly, as he gripped the
edges of the table.

"Are you sure it'