ge, she thought the Old Man was
aboard, and--she was goin' to make out a case! Says Nicholas, 'Oh, my
words! I'll fetch police!' An' away he cuts."

"How embarrassing!"

The blue eyes of my friend the Mate are twinkling, his face is screwed
up, and his nose is wrinkled all the way up. He is more like my old
Headmaster than ever.

"'Twas so, Mr. McAlnwick--'twas so. Ye see, my besettin' sin is
sympathy. I feel sorry for the baggage. She has a har-rd time of it,
and the ends don't meet--won't meet, nohow. But, as I said, 'Consider
the situation, Mrs. Ambree.' 'Oh, Mr. Mate,' says she, 'will he fetch
the police?' 'Possibly,' says I, 'if he finds one on the quay.' And
she began cryin' fit to break me heart."

To my surprise, the nose is still wrinkled; he breathes through his
nose in a way that means "Ye don't know what's comin'."

"'Oh, I hope he won't be so cruel, Mr. Mate,' says she, cryin' as I
said. 'For why?' says I, speakin' stern. 'You are an immoral wumman,
Mrs. Ambree.' 'Yes,' says she, 'I know that, Mr. Mate, I know that;
but it would be har-rd on me if he was to fetch Jim aboard for me.'
'Jim?' says I. 'Who in thunder's Jim, Mrs. Ambree?' ''Tis my husband,'
she sobs. 'He's on night duty in this dock, an' I'm a ruined soul if
he finds out.' And she set down there, Mr. McAlnwick, just where
you're settin' and burst into floods o' tears."

"Dear me!" I observe. And the nose is one mass of humoursome
corrugations.

"Aye, 'tis so," continues the Chief Officer, pouring out "Black and
White" for two. "An' at that moment in comes Nicholas, his face
serious-like, and says he, 'Mrs. Ambree, ye're wanted.' An' she goes
out wi' him, like Mary Queen o' Scots to the block!"

"Mr. Honna, I'm surprised!"

"Not a bit of it, McAlnwick, not a bit of it! At first I thought
Nicholas had been a fool and fetched a policeman, but Nicholas is no
fool, as ye've no doubt observed. Still, I got out an' put on me pants
and went into the cabin. Passin' the Steward's door I heard voices.
Enterin' the Steward's room, I saw him an' the baggage splittin' a
Guinness and carryin' on! 'Twas scandalous, Mr. McAlnwick. To be done
by a wire-haired, leather-skinned old reprobate like Nicholas. 'Twas a
clear case, for his wife does all his washin' up at Bridgend."

"I am shocked, Mr. Honna."

"Ye may well be. I was too. Pass the water-bottle, Mr. McAlnwick."

"I hear," I observe, "I hear Alexander the Great is to have the
_Petruchio_ nex