He quitted the room, and, dashing hastily downstairs, had already opened the hall door when a thought struck him, and he came back again.  Chrissie was still asleep in the chair, and, with a smile at the clever way in which he had solved a difficulty, he stooped down, and, raising her in his strong arms, bore her from the room and downstairs.  Then a hitch occurred.  The triumphant progress was marred by the behaviour of the hall door, which, despite his efforts, refused to be opened, and, encumbered by his fair burden, he could not for some time ascertain the reason.  Then, full of shame that so much deceit could exist in so fair and frail a habitation, he discovered that Miss Polson’s foot was pressing firmly against it.  Her eyes were still closed and her head heavy, but the fact remained that one foot was acting in a manner that was full of intelligence and guile, and when he took it away from the door the other one took its place.  By a sudden manoeuvre the wily Tucker turned his back on the door, and opened it, and, at the same moment, a hand came to life again and dealt him a stinging slap on the face.

“Idiot!” said the indignant Chrissie, slipping from his arms and confronting him.  “How dare you take such a liberty?”

The astonished boatswain felt his face, and regarded her open-mouthed.

“Don’t you ever dare to speak to me again,” said the offended maiden, drawing herself up with irreproachable dignity.  “I am disgusted with your conduct.  Most unbearable!”

“I was carrying you off to the doctor,” said the boatswain.”  How was I to know you was only shamming?”

“Shamming?” said Chrissie, in tones of incredulous horror.  “I was asleep.  I often go to sleep in the afternoon.”

The boatswain made no reply, except to grin with great intelligence as he followed his charge upstairs again.  He grinned at intervals until the return of Susan and Miss Polson, who, trying to look unconcerned, came in later on, both apparently suffering from temper, Susan especially.  Amid the sympathetic interruptions of these listeners Chrissie recounted her experiences, while the boatswain, despite his better sense, felt like the greatest scoundrel unhung, a feeling which was fostered by the remarks of Susan and the chilling regards of Miss Poison.

“I shall inform the captain,” said Miss Polson, bridling.  “It’s my duty.”

“Oh, I shall tell him,” said Chrissie.  “I shall tell him the moment he comes in at the door.”

“So shall I,” said Susan; “the idea of taking such liberties!”

Having fired this broadside, the trio watched the enemy narrowly and anxiously.

“If I’ve done anything wrong, ladies,” said the unhappy boatswain, “I am sorry for it.  I can’t say anything fairer than that, and I’ll tell the cap’n myself exactly how I came to do it when he comes in.”

“Pah! tell-tale!” said Susan.

“Of course, if you are here to fetch and carry,” said Miss Polson, with withering emphasis.