“I’m just going to tell you,” said Mr. Smith.  “I was out early this morning, strolling down by the harbour to get a little appetite for breakfast, when who should I see coming along, looking as though ’e ’ad just come from a funeral, but Cap’n Nugent!  I was going to pass ’im, but he stopped me and asked me to take a message from ’im to ’is old and faithful steward, Mr. Wilks.”

“Why, has he gone away?” exclaimed Mrs. Kingdom.

“His old and faithful steward,” repeated Mr. Smith, motioning her to silence. “’Tell ‘im,’ he says, ’that I am heartily ashamed of myself for wot took place last night—­and him, too.  Tell ’im that, after my father’s ’art proved too much for me, I walked the streets all night, and now I can’t face may injured son and family yet awhile, and I’m off to London till it has blown over.’”

“But what’s it all about?” demanded Nugent.  Why don’t you get to the point?”

“So far as I could make out,” replied Mr. Smith, with the studious care of one who desires to give exact information, “Cap’n Nugent and Mr. Wilks ’ad a little plan for giving you a sea blow.”

“Me?” interrupted the unfortunate steward.  “Now, look ’ere, Nathan Smith——­”

“Them was the cap’n’s words,” said the boarding-master, giving him a glance of great significance; “are you going to take away or add to wot the cap’n says?”

Mr. Wilks collapsed, and avoiding the indignant eyes of the Nugent family tried to think out his position.

“It seems from wot the cap’n told me,” continued Mr. Smith, “that there was some objection to your marrying old—­Mr. Kybird’s gal, so ’e and Mr. Wilks, after putting their ’eads together, decided to get you ’ere and after giving you a little whisky that Mr. Wilks knows the trick of—­”

“Me?” interrupted the unfortunate steward, again.

“Them was the cap’n’s words,” said Mr. Smith, coldly.  “After you’d ’ad it they was going to stow you away in the Seabird, which sailed this morning.  However, when the cap’n see you overcome, his ’art melted, and instead o’ putting you aboard the whaler he took your feet and Mr. Wilks your ‘ead, and after a great deal o’ trouble got you upstairs and put you to bed.”

“You miserable scoundrel,” said the astonished Mr. Nugent, addressing the shrinking steward; “you infernal old reprobate—­you—­you—­I didn’t think you’d got it in you.”

“So far as I could make out,” said Mr. Smith, kindly, “Mr. Wilks was only obeying orders.  It was the cap’n’s plan, and Mr. Wilks was aboard ship with ‘im for a very long time.  O’ course, he oughtn’t to ha’ done it, but the cap’n’s a masterful man, an’ I can quite understand Mr. Wilks givin’ way; I dessay I should myself if I’d been in ’is place—­he’s all ’art, is Mr. Wilks—­no ’ead.”

“It’s a good job for you you’re an old man, Sam,” said Mr. Nugent.

“I can hardly believe it of you, Sam,” said Miss Nugent.  “I can hardly think you could have been so deceitful.  Why, we’ve trusted you all our lives.”