“Get off a good joke?” echoed the skipper.  “Well, that’s what I call hard.  A good joke?  Why, my dear child, I’ve gotten off the joke of my life to-day.  Sink me, if I ain’t played the best joke of the year, and on Trunnell too, at that.  A good joke? ha, ha, hah!” and he threw his head back and laughed so loud and long that his mirth was infectious, and I even found myself smiling at him.

“Tell us what it is,” said Miss Jennie.

“Oh, ho, ho, tell you what it is,” laughed Jackwell, and his nose worked up and down so rapidly that I marvelled at it.  His glinting eyes were almost closed and his face was red with exertion.  “And suppose I’d tell you what it is, Miss Sackett?  You wouldn’t laugh.  Not you.  You couldn’t rise to the occasion like your mamma.  No, sink me, if I told you what it was, you wouldn’t laugh; so you’ll all have to wait till you get back aboard to hear it.  But it’s a good one, no fear.”

We were now almost alongside of the brig, and could see her captain at the gangway, waiting to receive us.  All along the rail strange faces peeped over at us.

“Way enough,” cried Jackwell, and the oars were shipped.  The boat swept alongside, and a ladder was lowered for us.  I climbed out first to be able to assist the ladies, and as I gained the deck I was greeted by a strongly built, bearded man who looked at me keenly out of clear blue eyes.

“I’m glad to see you, sir,” said he, holding out his hand.

I shook hands and turned to help Mrs. Sackett over the rail.  Then came Miss Jennie, and last of all our captain.

Jackwell sprang up the ladder quickly, and stood in the gangway.

“How are you, sir, Captain Thomp—­”

Captain Henry checked himself, looking at our skipper as though he had seen a ghost.

“Why, Jack—­”

But Jackwell had put up his hand, smiling pleasantly.

“Jack it is, old man.  You haven’t forgotten the time I picked you up on the beach, have you?” he said, laughing.  “Mrs. Sackett,” he cried, turning, “allow me to introduce my friend, Captain Henry.  Miss Sackett, also.  Here’s a skipper who hasn’t forgotten the day I pulled him out of the water on the coast of South Wales, where he was wrecked.  Sink me, but it’s a blessing to see gratitude,” he cried again, laughing heartily.  “Fancy one skipper pulling another out of the sea, hey?  Can you do that?”

“Well, I want to know,” replied Henry.  “I never knew you was a—­”

“You never knew what, old man?  What is it ye never knew?  Sink me, it would fill every barrel you have below, hey? wouldn’t it?  What you never knew, nor never will know, would fill your little ship so full she’d sink, Henry, or I’m a soger.  Ha, ha, hah! my boy; I don’t mean to cast no insinuations at you, but that’s a fact, ain’t it?  But what the dickens have you got going on aboard?”

He turned and gazed at the brig’s main deck, where tubs of water and soapsuds were being poured into the trying-out kettles built in the brig’s waist.