"Yes, Miss; that's it," said Bill. "You see, Miss, one wants space for a
doccymint. If it were a ship or a flag, now, or a fancy pictur of your
young man, I might manage it on your arm, but there must be breadth for a
legal doccymint, more especially as I should like to make a good job of
it while I is about it. I don't want none of them laryers a-turning up
their noses at Bill Jones' tattooing."

"Very well," said Augusta, with an inward sinking of the heart; "I will
go and get ready."

Accordingly she adjourned into the hut and removed the body of her dress
and turned down the flannel garment underneath it in such a fashion as to
leave as much of her neck bare as is to be seen when a lady has on a
moderately low dress. Then she came out again, dressed, or rather
undressed, for the sacrifice. Meanwhile, Bill had drawn out the ink-bag
of the cuttle, had prepared a little round fragment of wood which he
sharpened like a pencil by rubbing it against a stone, and had put a keen
edge on to a long white fishbone that he had selected.

"Now, Mr. Bill, I am ready," said Augusta, seating herself resolutely
upon a flat stone and setting her teeth.

"My word, Miss; but you have a fine pair of shoulders!" said the sailor,
contemplating the white expanse with the eye of an artist. "I never had
such a bit of material to work on afore. Hang me if it ain't almost a
pity to mark 'em! Not but what high-class tattooing is an ornimint to
anybody, from a Princess down; and in that you are fortunit, Miss, for I
larnt tattooing from them as _can_ tattoo, I did."