castaways what had been saved by it.  He said o’ course anybody could see at a glance we wasn’t sailormen, an’ he supposed Mr. Salmon was a butcher what had been carried out to sea while paddling at Margate to strengthen his ankles.  He said a lot more of this sort of thing, and all this time we was chasing his miserable little boat, an’ he was admiring the way she sailed, while the fust mate was answering his reflexshuns, an’ I’m sure that not even our skipper was more pleased than Mr. Salmon when we caught it at last, and shoved him back.  He was ungrateful up to the last, an’, just before leaving the ship, actually went up to Cap’n Brown, and advised him to shut his eyes an’ turn round three times and catch what he could.

“I never saw the skipper so upset afore, but I heard him tell Mr. McMillan that night that if he ever went out of his way again after a craft, it would only be to run it down.  Most people keep pretty quiet about supernatural things that happen to them, but he was about the quietest I ever heard of, an’, what’s more, he made everyone else keep quiet about it, too.  Even when he had to steer nor’-nor’-west arter that in the way o’ business he didn’t like it, an’ he was about the most cruelly disappointed man you ever saw when he heard afterwards that Cap’n Naskett got safe to Liverpool.”

AFTER THE INQUEST

It was a still fair evening in late summer in the parish of Wapping.  The hands had long since left, and the night watchman having abandoned his trust in favour of a neighbouring bar, the wharf was deserted.

An elderly seaman came to the gate and paused irresolute, then, seeing all was quiet, stole cautiously on to the jetty, and stood for some time gazing curiously down on to the deck of the billy-boy psyche lying alongside.

With the exception of the mate, who, since the lamented disappearance of its late master and owner, was acting as captain, the deck was as deserted as the wharf.  He was smoking an evening pipe in all the pride of a first command, his eye roving fondly from the blunt bows and untidy deck of his craft to her clumsy stern, when a slight cough from the man above attracted his attention.

“How do, George?” said the man on the jetty, somewhat sheepishly, as the other looked up.

The mate opened his mouth, and his pipe fell from it and smashed to pieces unnoticed.

“Got much stuff in her this trip?” continued the man, with an obvious attempt to appear at ease.

“The mate, still looking up, backed slowly to the other side of the deck, but made no reply.

“What’s the matter, man?” said the other testily.  “You don’t seem overpleased to see me.”

He leaned over as he spoke, and, laying hold of the rigging, descended to the deck, while the mate took his breath in short, exhilarating gasps.

“Here I am, George,” said the intruder, “turned up like a bad penny, an’ glad to see your handsome face again, I can tell you.”