He walked off with his ’ead in the air, and if ’e took that letter out once and looked at it, he did five times.

“Chuck it away,” I ses, going up to him.

“Certainly not,” he ses, folding it up careful and stowing it away in ’is breastpocket.  “She’s took a fancy to me, and it’s my dooty——­”

“You said that afore,” I ses.

He stared at me nasty for a moment, and then ’e ses:  “You ain’t seen any young lady hanging about ’ere, I suppose, Bill?  A tall young lady with a blue hat trimmed with red roses?”

I shook my ’ead.

“If you should see ’er” he ses.

“I’ll tell your missis,” I ses.  “It ’ud be much easier for her to do her dooty properly than it would you.  She’d enjoy doing it, too.”

He went off agin then, and I thought he ’ad done with me, but he ’adn’t.  He spoke to me that evening as if I was the greatest friend he ’ad in the world.  I ’ad two ’arfpints with ’im at the Albion—­with his missis walking up and down outside—­and arter the second ’arf-pint he said he wanted to meet Dorothy and tell ’er that ’e was married, and that he ’oped she would meet some good man that was worthy of ’er.

I had a week’s peace while the ship was away, but she was hardly made fast afore I ’ad it all over agin and agin.

“Are you sure there’s been no more letters?” he ses.

“Sartain,” I ses.

“That’s right,” he ses; “that’s right.  And you ’aven’t seen her walking up and down?”

“No,” I ses.

“’Ave you been on the look-out?” he ses.  “I don’t suppose a nice gal like that would come and shove her ’ead in at the gate.  Did you look up and down the road?”

“Yes,” I ses.  “I’ve fair made my eyes ache watching for her.”

“I can’t understand it,” he ses.  “It’s a mystery to me, unless p’r’aps she’s been taken ill.  She must ’ave seen me here in the fust place; and she managed to get hold of my name.  Mark my words, I shall ’ear from her agin.”

“’Ow do you know?” I ses.

“I feel it ’ere,” he ses, very solemn, laying his ’and on his chest.

I didn’t know wot to do.  Wot with ’is foolishness and his missis’s temper, I see I ’ad made a mess of it.  He told me she had ’ardly spoke a word to ’im for two days, and when I said—­being a married man myself —­that it might ha’ been worse, ’e said I didn’t know wot I was talking about.

I did a bit o’ thinking arter he ’ad gorn aboard agin.  I dursn’t tell ’im that I ’ad wrote the letter, but I thought if he ’ad one or two more he’d see that some one was ’aving a game with ’im, and that it might do ’im good.  Besides which it was a little amusement for me.

Arter everybody was in their beds asleep I sat on a clerk’s stool in the office and wrote ’im another letter from Dorothy.  I called ’im “Dear Bill,” and I said ’ow sorry I was that I ’adn’t had even a sight of ’im lately, having been laid up with a sprained ankle and ’ad only just got about agin.  I asked ’im to meet me at Cleopatra’s Needle at eight o’clock, and said that I should wear the blue ’at with red roses.