“But you don’t want them to marry?” said Hardy, ignoring the remark.

“I don’t want my brother to do anything shabby,” replied the girl; “but I shouldn’t be sorry, of course, if they did not.”

“Very good,” said Hardy.  “Armed with your consent I shall leave no stone unturned.  Nugent was let in for this, and I am going to get him out if I can.  All’s fair in love and war.  You don’t mind my doing anything shabby?”

“Not in the least,” replied Miss Nugent, promptly.

The reappearance of Mrs. Kingdom at this moment saved Mr. Hardy the necessity of a reply.

Conversation reverted to the missing captain, and Hardy and Mrs. Kingdom together drew such a picture of the two captains fraternizing that Miss Nugent felt that the millennium itself could have no surprises for her.

“He has improved very much,” said Mrs. Kingdom, after the door had closed behind their visitor; “so thoughtful.”

“He’s thoughtful enough,” agreed her niece.

“He is what I call extremely considerate,” pursued the elder lady, “but I’m afraid he is weak; anybody could turn him round their little finger.”

“I believe they could,” said Miss Nugent, gazing at her with admiration, “if he wanted to be turned.”

The ice thus broken, Mr. Hardy spent the following day or two in devising plausible reasons for another visit.  He found one in the person of Mr. Wilks, who, having been unsuccessful in finding his beloved master at a small tavern down by the London docks, had returned to Sunwich, by no means benefited by his change of air, to learn the terrible truth as to his disappearance from Hardy.

“I wish they’d Shanghaid me instead,” he said to that sympathetic listener, “or Mrs. Silk.”

“Eh?” said the other, staring.

“Wot’ll be the end of it I don’t know,” said Mr. Wilks, laying a hand, which still trembled, on the other’ knee.  “It’s got about that she saved my life by ’er careful nussing, and the way she shakes ’er ’ead at me for risking my valuable life, as she calls it, going up to London, gives me the shivers.”

“Nonsense,” said Hardy; “she can’t marry you against your will.  Just be distantly civil to her.”

“’Ow can you be distantly civil when she lives just opposite?” inquired the steward, querulously.  “She sent Teddy over at ten o’clock last night to rub my chest with a bottle o’ liniment, and it’s no good me saying I’m all right when she’s been spending eighteen-pence o’ good money over the stuff.”

“She can’t marry you unless you ask her,” said the comforter.

Mr. Wilks shook his head.  “People in the alley are beginning to talk,” he said, dolefully.  “Just as I came in this afternoon old George Lee screwed up one eye at two or three women wot was gossiping near, and when I asked ’im wot ‘e’d got to wink about he said that a bit o’ wedding-cake ’ad blowed in his eye as I passed.  It sent them silly creeturs into fits a’most.”