Many Cargoes | Page 7

time," said the mate.
"I hope not," said Miss Alsen, who thought it time to quell a gleam of
peculiar tenderness plainly apparent in the mate's eyes. "I shouldn't like
to be a sailor even if I were a man."
"Why not?" inquired the other.
"I don't know," said the girl meditatively; "but sailors are generally
such scrubby little men, aren't they?"
"SCUBBY?" repeated the mate, in a dazed voice.
"I'd sooner be a soldier," she continued; "I like soldiers--they're so
manly. I wish there was one here now."
"What for?" inquired the mate, in the manner of a sulky schoolboy.
"If there was a man like that here now," said Miss Alsen thoughtfully,
"I'd dare him to mustard old Towson's nose."
"Do what?" inquired the astonished mate.
"Mustard old Towson's nose," said Miss Alsen, glancing lightly from
the cruet-stand to the portrait.
The infatuated man hesitated a moment, and then, reaching over to the
cruet, took out the spoon, and with a pale, determined face, indignantly
daubed the classic features of the provision dealer. His indignation was
not lessened by the behaviour of the temptress, who, instead of fawning
upon him for his bravery, crammed her handkerchief to her mouth and
giggled foolishly.
"Where's father," she said suddenly, as a step sounded above. "Oh, you

will get it!"
She rose from her seat, and, standing aside to let her father pass, went
on deck. The skipper sank on to a locker, and, raising the tea-pot,
poured himself out a cup of tea, which he afterwards decanted into a
saucer. He had just raised it to his lips, when he saw something over the
rim of it which made him put it down again untasted, and stare blankly
at the mantel-piece.
"Who the--what the--who the devil's done this?" he inquired in a
strangulated voice, as he rose and regarded the portrait,
"I did," said the mate.
"You did?" roared the other. "You? What for?"
"I don't know," said the mate awkwardly. "Something seemed to come
over me all of a sudden, and I felt as though I MUST do it."
"But what for? Where's the sense of it?" said the skipper.
The mate shook his head sheepishly.
"But what did you want to do such a monkey-trick FOR?" roared the
skipper.
"I don't know," said the mate doggedly; "but it's done, ain't it? and it's
no good talking about it."
The skipper looked at him in wrathful perplexity. "You'd better have
advice when we get to port, Jack," he said at length; "the last few
weeks I've noticed you've been a bit strange in your manner. You go an'
show that 'ed of yours to a doctor."
The mate grunted, and went on deck for sympathy, but, finding Miss
Alsen in a mood far removed from sentiment, and not at all grateful,
drew off whistling. Matters were in this state when the skipper
appeared, wiping his mouth.

"I've put another portrait on the mantel-piece, Jack," he said
menacingly; "it's the only other one I've got, an' I wish you to
understand that if that only smells mustard, there'll be such a row in this
'ere ship that you won't be able to 'ear yourself speak for the noise."
He moved off with dignity as his daughter, who had overheard the
remark, came sidling up to the mate and smiled on him agreeably.
"He's put another portrait there," she said softly.
"You'll find the mustard-pot in the cruet," said the mate coldly.
Miss Alsen turned and watched her father as he went forward, and then,
to the mate's surprise, went below without another word. A prey to
curiosity, but too proud to make any overture, he compromised matters
by going and standing near the companion.
"Mate!" said a stealthy whisper at the foot of the ladder.
The mate gazed calmly out to sea.
"Jack!" said the girl again, in a lower whisper than before.
The mate went hot all over, and at once descended. He found Miss
Alsen, her eyes sparkling, with the mustard-pot in her left hand and the
spoon in her right, executing a war-dance in front of the second
portrait.
"Don't do it," said the mate, in alarm.
"Why not?" she inquired, going within an inch of it.
"He'll think it's me," said the mate.
"That's why I called you down here," said she; "you don't think I
wanted you, do you?"
"You put that spoon down," said the mate, who was by no means
desirous of another interview with the skipper.

"Shan't!" said Miss Alsen.
The mate sprang at her, but she dodged round the table. He leaned over,
and, catching her by the left arm, drew her towards him; then, with her
flushed, laughing face close to his, he forgot everything else, and kissed
her.
"Oh!" said Hetty indignantly.