“They don’t seem up to sample,” he said, with a growl;” and you’re a good judge of a cigar.”

Mr. Chalk rose and followed him downstairs, where, to his great astonishment, he was at once seized by Mr. Tredgold and led outside.

“Anything wrong?” he demanded.

“We must get to the ship at once,” said Tredgold, in an excited whisper. “The men!”

Mr. Chalk, much startled, clapped his hands to his head and spoke of going back for his hat.

“Never mind about your hat,” said Stobell, impatiently; “we haven’t got ours either.”

He took Mr. Chalk’s other arm and started off at a rapid pace.

“What is the matter?” inquired Mr. Chalk, looking from one to the other.

“Message from Captain Brisket to go on board at once, or he won’t be answerable for the consequences,” replied Tredgold, in a thrilling whisper; “and, above all, to bring Mr. Chalk to quiet the men.”

Mr. Chalk turned a ghastly white.  “Is it mutiny?” he faltered.  “Already?”

[Illustration:  “‘Is it mutiny?’ he faltered.”]

“Something o’ the sort,” said Stobell.

Despite his friend’s great strength, Mr. Chalk for one moment almost brought him to a standstill.  Then, in a tremulous voice, he spoke of going to the police.

“We don’t want the police,” said Tredgold, sharply.  “If you’re afraid, Chalk, you’d better go back and stay with the ladies while we settle the affair.”

Mr. Chalk flushed, and holding his head erect said no more.  Mr. Duckett and a waterman were waiting for them at the stairs, and, barely giving them time to jump in, pushed off and pulled with rapid strokes to the schooner.  Mr. Chalk’s heart failed him as they drew near and he saw men moving rapidly about her deck.  His last thoughts as he clambered over the side were of his wife.

In blissful ignorance of his proceedings, Mrs. Chalk, having adjusted her cap in the glass and drawn on her gloves, sat patiently awaiting his return.  She even drew a good-natured comparison between the time spent on choosing cigars and bonnets.

“There’s plenty of time,” she said, in reply to an uneasy remark of Mrs. Stobell’s.  “It’s only just three, and we don’t sail until four.  What is that horrid, clanking noise?”

“Some craft getting up her anchor,” said Edward, going to the window and leaning out.  “WHY!  HALLOA!”

“What’s the matter?” said both ladies.

Edward drew in his head and regarded them with an expression of some bewilderment.

“It’s the Fair Emily,” he said, slowly, “and she’s hoisting her sails.”

“Just trying the machinery to see that it’s all right, I suppose,” said Mrs. Chalk.  “My husband said that Captain Brisket is a very careful man.”

Edward Tredgold made no reply.  He glanced first at three hats standing in a row on the sideboard, and then at the ladies as they came to the window, and gazed with innocent curiosity at the schooner.  Even as they looked she drew slowly ahead, and a boat piled up with luggage, which had been lying the other side of her, became visible.  Mrs. Chalk gazed at it in stupefaction.