I 'eard a noise outside that took me to the door agin and kept me there,
'olding on to the door-post and gasping for my breath. The cook of the
Saltram was sitting on a paraffin-cask playing the mouth-orgin, and the
actor, with 'is arms folded across his stummick, was dancing a horn-pipe
as if he'd gorn mad.

I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life, and when I recollected
that they thought it was me, I thought I should ha' dropped.

A night-watchman can't be too careful, and I knew that it 'ud be all
over Wapping next morning that I 'ad been dancing to a tuppenny-ha'penny
mouth-orgin played by a ship's cook. A man that does 'is dooty always
has a lot of people ready to believe the worst of 'im.

I went back into the dark office and waited, and by and by I 'eard them
coming along to the gate and patting 'im on the back and saying he ought
to be in a pantermime instead o' wasting 'is time night-watching. He
left 'em at the gate, and then 'e came into the office smiling as if
he'd done something clever.

"Wot d'ye think of me for a understudy?" he ses, laughing. "They all
thought it was you. There wasn't one of 'em 'ad the slightest suspicion
--not one."

"And wot about my character?" I ses, folding my arms acrost my chest
and looking at him.

"Character?" he ses, staring. "Why, there's no 'arm in dancing; it's a
innercent enjoyment."