“What’s the matter?” inquired Dan quickly.

“It’s all found out,” said Billy.

“What!” cried the crew simultaneously.

“Leastways, it will be,” said the youth, correcting himself.  “You’d better chuck him overboard while you’ve got time.  I heard the cap’n tell the mate as he was coming down in the fo’c’sle to-morrow morning to look round.  He’s going to have it painted.”

“This,” said Dan, in the midst of a painful pause, “this is what comes of helping a fellow-creature.  What’s to be done?”

“Tell the skipper the fo’c’sle don’t want painting,” suggested Billy.

The agonised old seaman, carefully putting down his saucer of tea, cuffed his head spitefully.

“It’s a smooth sea,” said he, looking at the perturbed countenance of Private Smith, “’an there’s a lot of shipping about.  If I was a deserter, sooner than be caught, I would slip overboard to-night with a lifebelt and take my chance.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Mr. Smith, with much decision.

“You wouldn’t?  Not if you was quite near another ship?” cooed Dan.

“Not if I was near fifty blooming ships, all trying to see which could pick me up first,” replied Mr. Smith, with some heat.

“Then we shall have to leave you to your fate,” said Dan solemnly.  “If a man’s unreasonable, his best friends can do nothing for him.”

“Chuck all his clothes overboard, anyway,” said Billy.

“That’s a good idea o’ the boy’s.  You leave his ears alone,” said Joe, stopping the ready hand of the exasperated Dan.  “He’s got more sense than any of us.  Can you think of anything else, Billy?  What shall we do then?”

The eyes of all were turned upon their youthful deliverer, those of Mr. Smith being painfully prominent.  It was a proud moment for Billy, and he sat silent for some time, with a look of ineffable wisdom and thought upon his face.  At length he spoke.

“Let somebody else have a turn,” he said generously.

The voice of the antimacassar worker broke the silence.

“Paint him all over with stripes of different-coloured paint, and let him pretend he’s mad, and didn’t know how he got here,” he said, with an uncontrollable ring of pride at the idea, which was very coldly received, Private Smith being noticeably hard on it.

“I know,” said Billy shrilly, clapping his hands.  “I’ve got it, I ’ve got it.  After he’s chucked his clothes overboard to-night, let him go overboard too, with a line.”

“And tow him the rest o’ the way, and chuck biscuits to him, I suppose,” snarled Dan.

“No,” said the youthful genius scornfully; “pretend he’s been upset from a boat, and has been swimming about, and we heard him cry out for help and rescued him.”

“It’s about the best way out of it,” said Joe, after some deliberation; “it’s warm weather, and you won’t take no harm, mate.  Do it in my watch, and I’ll pull you out directly.”