“Mrs. Plimmer came down to the wharf every time the ship was up, arter that.  Sometimes she’d spend the evening aboard, and sometimes they’d go off and spend it somewhere else.  She ’ad a fancy for the cabin, I think, and the cap’n told me that she ’ad said when they were married she was going to sail with ’im sometimes.

“‘But it ain’t for six months yet,’ he ses, ‘and a lot o’ things might ‘appen to the other one in that time, with luck.’

“It was just about a month arter that that ’e came to me one evening trembling all over.  I ’ad just come on dooty, and afore I could ask ’im wot was the matter he ’ad got me in the ‘Bull’s Head’ and stood me three ’arf-pints, one arter the other.

“‘I’m ruined,’ he ses in a ’usky whisper; ’I’m done for.  Why was wimmen made?  Wot good are they?  Fancy ’ow bright and ’appy we should all be without ’em.’

“’I started to p’int out one or two things to ’im that he seemed to ’ave forgot, but ’e wouldn’t listen.  He was so excited that he didn’t seem to know wot ’e was doing, and arter he ’ad got three more ’arf-pints waiting for me, all in a row on the counter, I ’ad to ask ’im whether he thought I was there to do conjuring tricks, or wot?’

“‘There was a letter waiting for me in the office,’ he ses.  ’From Miss Lamb—­she’s in London.  She’s coming to pay me a surprise visit this evening—­I know who’ll get the surprise.  Mrs. Plimmer’s coming too.’

“I gave ’im one of my ’arf-pints and made ’im drink it.  He chucked the pot on the floor when he ‘ad done, in a desprit sort o’ way, and ’im and the landlord ’ad a little breeze then that did ’im more good than wot the beer ’ad.  When we came outside ’e seemed more contented with ’imself, but he shook his ’ead and got miserable as soon as we got to the wharf agin.

“‘S’pose they both come along at the same time,’ he ses.  ’Wot’s to be done?’

“I shut the gate with a bang and fastened the wicket.  Then I turned to ’im with a smile.

“’I’m watchman ‘ere,’ I ses, ’and I lets in who I thinks I will.  This ain’t a public ‘ighway,’ I ses; ‘it’s a wharf.’

“‘Bill,’ he ses, ‘you’re a genius.’

“’If Miss Lamb comes ‘ere asking arter you,’ I ses, ’I shall say you’ve gone out for the evening.’

“‘Wot about her letter?’ he ses.

“’You didn’t ‘ave it,’ I ses, winking at ’im.

“’And suppose she waits about outside for me, and Mrs. Plimmer wants me to take ‘er out?’ he ses, shivering.  ’She’s a fearful obstinate woman; and she’d wait a week for me.’

“He kept peeping up the road while we talked it over, and then we both see Mrs. Plimmer coming along.  He backed on to the wharf and pulled out ’is purse.

“‘Bill,’ he ses, gabbling as fast as ’e could gabble, ’here’s five or six shillings.  If the other one comes and won’t go away tell ’er I’ve gone to the Pagoda Music-’all and you’ll take ’er to me, keep ’er out all the evening some’ow, if you can, if she comes back too soon keep ’er in the office.’