Captains All | Page 8

the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, "to
kill two birds with one stone--prove to her that she does want being
protected, and that I'm the man to protect her. D'ye take my meaning,

mate?"
The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps. "Like a lump
o' wood," he said, approvingly.
"My opinion is," said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, "that she loves
me without knowing it."
"They often do," said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.
"Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed," said the other.
"It does you credit," remarked Mr. Travers.
"I've got a good head," said Mr. Benn, "else I shouldn't 'ave got my
rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over in my
mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it. Now, if
you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, damme I'll
make it a quid."
"Go on, Vanderbilt," said Mr. Travers; "I'm listening."
The boatswain gazed at him fixedly. "You meet me 'ere in this spot at
eleven o'clock to-night," he said, solemnly; "and I'll take you to her
'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of. You goes upstairs
and alarms her, and she screams for help. I'm watching the house,
faithful-like, and hear 'er scream. I dashes in at the winder, knocks you
down, and rescues her. D'ye see?"
"I hear," corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.
"She clings to me," continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression of
face, "in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and pluck, she
marries me."
"An' I get a five years' honeymoon," said the soldier.
The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder. "In the
excitement of the moment you spring up and escape," he said, with a

kindly smile. "I've thought it all out. You can run much faster than I
can; any-ways, you will. The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,
and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten miles
away."
Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself. "Time I was
toddling," he said, with a yawn. "Thanks for amusing me, mate."
"You won't do it?" said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.
"I'm hanged if I do," said the soldier, emphatically. "Accidents will
happen, and then where should I be?"
"If they did," said the boatswain, "I'd own up and clear you."
"You might," said Mr. Travers, "and then again you mightn't. So long,
mate."
"I--I'll make it two quid," said the boat-swain, trembling with eagerness.
"I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job."
The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder.
"Thankee," he said, with mock gratitude.
"Look 'ere," said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by the
sleeve; "I'll give it to you in writing. Come, you ain't faint-hearted?
Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing. If I give it to you in
writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me than it is for
you, ain't it?"
Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.
"I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house," continued the
boatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made. "I'd give
'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me. That's my confidence in you; I
likes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work to be
done, give 'em to me afore anybody."
[Illustration: "'I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house,'

continued the boatswain."]
The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground.
"Go on," he said, slowly. "Write it out fair and square and sign it, and
I'm your man."
The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle of
papers from his pocket. "There's letters there with my name and
address on 'em," he said. "It's all fair, square, and above-board. When
you've cast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing."
Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence,
with various side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked his
pencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition. The document
finished--after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by the
careful Mr. Travers--the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and
handing it over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read
it.
"Seems all right," said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in his
waistcoat-pocket. "I'll be here at eleven to-night."
"Eleven it is," said the boatswain, briskly, "and, between pals--here's
arf a