“You must take me back,” said Mrs. Jansell passionately.

“I’m not going back for anybody,” said the skipper.  “But you can make your mind quite easy:  you’re as safe aboard my ship as what you would be alone on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic; and as for the mate, he was only chaffing you.  Wasn’t you, Harry?”

The mate made some reply, but neither Mrs. Jansell, the skipper, nor the men, who were all listening eagerly, caught it, and his unfortunate victim, accepting the inevitable, walked to the side of the ship and gazed disconsolately astern.

It was not until the following morning that the mate, who had received orders to mess for’ard, saw her, and ignoring the fact that everybody suspended work to listen, walked up and bade her good morning.

“Harry,” said the skipper warningly.

“All right,” said the mate shortly.  “I want to speak to you very particularly,” he said nervously, and led his listener aft, followed by three of the crew who came to clean the brasswork, and who listened mutinously when they were ordered to defer unwonted industry to a more fitting time.  The deck clear, the mate began, and in a long rambling statement, which Mrs. Jansell at first thought the ravings of lunacy, acquainted her with the real state of his feelings.

“I never did!” said she, when he had finished.  “Never!  Why, you hadn’t seen her before yesterday.”

“Of course I shall take you back by train,” said the mate, “and tell your husband how sorry I am.”

“I might have suspected something when you said all those nice things to me,” said the mollified lady.  “Well, you must take your chance, like all the rest of them.  She can only say ‘No,’ again.  It’ll explain this affair better, that’s one thing; but I expect they’ll laugh at you.”

“I don’t care,” said the mate stoutly.  “You’re on my side, ain’t you?”

Mrs. Jansell laughed, and the mate, having succeeded beyond his hopes in the establishment of amicable relations, went about his duties with a light heart.

By the time they reached Boston the morning was far advanced, and after the Gem was comfortably berthed he obtained permission of the skipper to accompany the fair passenger to London, beguiling the long railway journey by every means in his power.  Despite his efforts, however, the journey began to pall upon his companion, and it was not until evening was well advanced that they found themselves in the narrow streets of Limehouse.

“We’ll see how the land lies first,” said he, as they approached the wharf and made their way cautiously on to the quay.

The Aquila was still alongside, and the mate’s heart thumped violently as he saw the cause of all the trouble sitting alone on the deck.  She rose with a little start as her mother stepped carefully aboard, and, running to her, kissed her affectionately, and sat her down on the hatches.

“Poor mother,” she said caressingly.  “What did you bring that lunatic back with you for?”