Miss Harris expressed her gratification.

"P'raps you wouldn't mind going down the fo'c'sle and staying there till
we've made fast," said the other. "I'd take it as a favour. My owners
don't like me to carry passengers."

Miss Harris, who understood perfectly, said, "Certainly," and with a cold
stare at the mate, who was at no pains to conceal his amusement, went
below at once, thoughtfully closing the scuttle after her.

"There's no call to make mischief, Ted," said the skipper, somewhat
anxiously, as they swept round the last bend and came into view of
Coalsham.

The mate said nothing, but stood by to take in sail as they ran swiftly
toward the little quay. The pace slackened, and the Arabella, as though
conscious of the contraband in her forecastle, crept slowly to where a
stout, middle-aged woman, who bore a strong likeness to the mate, stood
upon the quay.

"There's poor Loo," said the mate, with a sigh.

The skipper made no reply to this infernal insinuation. The barge ran
alongside the quay and made fast.

"I thought you'd be up," said Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. "Now come along
to breakfast; Ted 'll follow on."

Captain Gibbs, dived down below for his coat, and slipping ashore,
thankfully prepared to move off with his wife.