Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim looked up.

"Is that you, Mrs. Waters?" inquired the boatswain, fearfully.

"Yes, of course it is," snapped the widow. "Who else should it be, do
you think? Go on! What are you stopping for?"

Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly audible.
The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the widow's.
For a long time they watched in silence.

"Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?" called the boatswain, looking up
so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the side of
the window. "It's a bit creepy, all alone."

"I'm all right," said Mrs. Waters.

"I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,"
pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely. "How you can stay there
alone I can't think. I thought I saw something looking over your
shoulder just now. Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught hold
of you! The widow gave a sudden faint scream.

"If you do that again" she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.

"He put it into my head," said the culprit, humbly; "I should never have
thought of such a thing by myself. I'm one of the quietest and
best-behaved----"