"Wot's that tapping noise?" he ses, all of a sudden. "'Ark!"

I knew wot it was. It was the handle of that umberella 'ammering on the
gate. I went cold all over, and then when I thought that the pot-man was
most likely encouraging 'er to do it I began to boil.

"Somebody at the gate," ses the skipper.

"Aye, aye," I ses. "I know all about it."

I went on talking until at last the skipper asked me whether he was
wandering in 'is mind, or whether I was. The mate came up from the cabin
just then, and o' course he 'ad to tell me there was somebody knocking at
the gate.

"Ain't you going to open it?" ses the skipper, staring at me.

"Let 'em ring," I ses, off-hand.

The words was 'ardly out of my mouth afore they did ring, and if they 'ad
been selling muffins they couldn't ha' kept it up harder. And all the
time the umberella was doing rat-a-tat tats on the gate, while a voice--
much too loud for the potman's--started calling out: "Watch-man ahoy!"

"They're calling you, Bill," ses the skipper. "I ain't deaf," I ses,
very cold.

"Well, I wish I was," ses the skipper. "It's fair making my ear ache.
Why the blazes don't you do your dooty, and open the gate?"