“We’re done, my boys; we’re done!  Oh, Lord, what swabs we have been!” cried the senior of the three with a groan, laying his head on the table.

“Oh, never say die!” said another, a cheery-faced, ruddy lad with a noticeable Scottish accent.  “I’ve been in as tight a hole before and got out of it all right.  We’ve a few hours yet to come and go on.  Something’s pretty sure to turn up.”

As he spoke the key was put in the door, and in came the landlady.

“Well! wot’s it goin’ to be?  Am I to get that there money you owes me, or am I not?  You ain’t got much time for shilly-shallyin’, I can tell you, young gentlemen.  An’ paid I’m agoin’ to be, one way or other.”

She was a big-boned, florid, dark-eyed woman, well over thirty, somewhat inclined to be down-at-heel and slatternly, though not yet quite destitute of some small share of good looks; a woman solid of step and unattractive to the eye of youth; moreover, as they knew from recent experience, possessed of a rasping tongue.

“None o’ ye got anything to say?  Well, then, I’ll tell you what I’m ready to do and let you go.  One of you shall marry me!  I don’t care two straws which of you it is.  But if you three’re to get aboard your ship afore she sails, one of you’s got to come with me to the parson this night an’ be spliced.  Take it or leave it; them’s my terms.  For the good o’ my business I must ’ave a ’usband, now my old dad’s gone aloft.  Whether he’s on the spot or not I don’t care not the value of a reefer’s button, so long as I can show my ‘lines.’  I’ll give you ’alf an hour to make up your minds an’ settle atween you who’s goin’ to be the lucky one.”

And with that she left the room, again carefully locking the door and taking away the key.

Truly were they now between the devil and the deep sea.  And no amount of discussion improved the prospect.

“We can’t do it, you know,” piteously cried one.  “I’ll see her shot first.”

“Blest if I see any other way out of it,” said another.

“And she’s pretty old.  She might perhaps die before we came back, mightn’t she?” hopefully ventured the third.

“Oh, stow that!  She’s not more than forty, and she’s likely to live as long as any of us.”

“Well, if you won’t allow that she’s likely to oblige us by leaving this world, at anyrate you’ll admit that there’s always a goodish chance that the husband-elect may run up against a French cannonball and get out of the scrape that way.  Anyhow, we’ve come to the end of our tether.  The alternative’s ruin.  It’s pretty black to windward, whichever way you look at it, but one way spells ruin for the lot of us; the other, at the worst, means disaster for only one.  I vote we draw lots, and the man who draws the shortest lot wins—­er ... at least he marries the lady,” said the cheery-faced boy, with rather a rueful laugh.

“You’ll laugh perhaps on the wrong side of your face before all’s done.  But, all right.  If we must, we must.  You make ready the lots, Watty, and I’ll take first draw.  Only, I think if the bad luck’s mine, I’ll slip over the side some middle watch,” said the senior middy miserably.