[Illustration:  “A slight nautical roll.”]

“And now,” said Captain Brisket, after a couple of sturdy seamen had placed the men’s luggage in the new cabin, “which of you ladies is going to have my state-room, and which the mate’s bunk?”

Mrs. Chalk started; she had taken it for granted that she was to have the state-room.  She turned and eyed her friend anxiously.

“The bunk seems to get the most air,” said Mrs. Stobell.  “And it’s nearer the ladder in case of emergencies.”

“You have it, dear,” said Mrs. Chalk, tenderly.  “I’m not nervous.”

“But you are so fond of fresh air,” said Mrs. Stobell, with a longing glance at the state-room.  “I don’t like to be selfish.”

“You’re not,” said Mrs. Chalk, with conviction.

“Chalk and I will toss for it,” said Mr. Stobell, who had been listening with some impatience.  He spun a coin in the air, and Mr. Chalk, winning the bunk for his indignant wife, was at some pains to dilate upon its manifold advantages.  Mrs. Stobell, with a protesting smile, had her things carried into the state-room, while Mrs. Chalk stood by listening coldly to plans for putting her heavy luggage in the hold.

“What time do we start?” inquired Tredgold senior, moving towards the companion-ladder.

“Four o’clock, sir,” replied Brisket.

Mr. Stobell, his heavy features half-lit by an unwonted smile, turned and surveyed his friends.  “I’ve ordered a little feed at the King of Hanover at half-past one,” he said, awkwardly.  “We’ll be back on board by half-past three, captain.”

Captain Brisket bowed, and the party were making preparations for departure when a hitch was caused by the behaviour of Mrs. Chalk, who was still brooding over the affair of the state-room.  In the plainest of plain terms she declared that she did not want any luncheon and preferred to stay on board.  Her gloom seemed to infect the whole party, Mr. Stobell in particular being so dejected that his wife eyed him in amazement.

“It’ll spoil it for all of us if you don’t come,” he said, with bashful surliness.  “Why, I arranged the lunch more for you than anybody.  It’ll be our last meal on shore.”

Mrs. Chalk said that she had had so many meals on shore that she could afford to miss one, and Mr. Stobell, after eyeing her for some time in a manner strangely at variance with his words, drew his wife to one side and whispered fiercely in her ear.

“Well, I sha’n’t go without her,” said Mrs. Stobell, rejoining the group.  “What with losing that nice, airy bunk and getting that nasty, stuffy stateroom, I don’t feel like eating.”

Mrs. Chalk’s countenance cleared.  “Don’t you like it, dear? “she said, affectionately.  “Change, by all means, if you don’t.  Never mind about their stupid tossing.”

Mrs. Stobell changed, and Mr. Tredgold senior, after waiting a decent interval for the sake of appearances, entreated both ladies to partake of the luncheon.  Unable to resist any longer, Mrs. Chalk gave way, and in the ship’s boat, propelled by the brawny arms of two of the crew, went ashore with the others.