"I must leave you now," she said a little coldly. "I have to----"

"Half a mo'," broke in Smith, "you haven't heard the lady's name yet."

"I don't think I want to, thanks. It's not a matter which----"

"Isn't it! You wait. The lady's name is Dora Fletcher--how about that?"

An angry flush mounted to the girl's face, and then, being blessed with that rare possession, a sense of humour, she had much ado to prevent herself from laughing outright.

"I'm afraid I can't oblige you, Mr. Smith," she said. "Although, of course, I appreciate the honour you've done me."

"That ain't any use to me," growled the second-mate, rather taken aback at this unhesitating rejection.

"I'm sorry, but----"

"What's wrong with me, then?" he burst out. "Of course I'm not a bloomin' earl or a dook nor yet a Captain----"

"I think we had better forget all about it," answered the girl. "Please don't speak of it again."

But Smith, his hopes dashed to the ground, and his pride wounded, was not inclined to drop the subject so lightly. In fact, he completely lost his temper.

"I suppose it's because you're sweet on the skipper," he said savagely.

"But I can tell you that you ain't got a ghost of a chance there; no, not if you lived to a hundred. He ain't no ornery, bloomin' skipper, nor Calamity ain't his name. Would you like to know who he is?"

The girl hesitated, torn between an almost irresistible desire to learn the secret of that strange man's ident.i.ty, and disgust at the vulgar outburst of the little c.o.c.kney.

"You may as well know," he added, noticing her indecision.

"Well, tell me then," she retorted, unable any longer to resist the temptation.

Smith glanced furtively around the cabin as if to make sure no one was concealed there, and then leaned over the edge of his bunk.

"Come nearer," he said; "it ain't the sort of thing to shout out loud."

Reluctantly she moved a little closer to him, and he whispered two words in her ear.

"Well, what do you say to that?" he asked triumphantly.

CHAPTER XXIII

DORA FLETCHER ANSWERS "NO"

A week had pa.s.sed, and Calamity, now convalescent, was able once more to resume command. As, however, Smith was still unable to discharge his customary duties, the Captain appointed Miss Fletcher temporary mate.

"Since you are now an officer," he said with that grim smile of his, "you had better take your meals in the cabin with me."

The girl's eyes lit up with pleasure for a moment, then the light died out of them and her lips hardened.

"Thank you all the same, but I should prefer to have my meals in my own cabin as before," she answered.

"Please yourself," answered Calamity carelessly.

After this, although their relationship remained superficially much the same as it had always been, the Captain taciturn and abrupt, the girl quiet and self-possessed, there was a subtle change in the att.i.tude of each towards the other. Calamity had come to rely on the girl, and now accepted at her hands many little services which tended towards his greater comfort, services which he would have rejected with curt imperiousness less than a fortnight ago.

One day he sent for McPhulach, and in due course the engineer appeared, clad as usual, in soiled dungarees, and clasping a piece of oily cotton-waste in his hand.

"Ye're wishfu' tae see me, sir?" he inquired.

"Yes; sit down."

The engineer perched himself on the cabin skylight, and began mechanically to rub the bra.s.s rails with his cotton-waste.

"Would you care to go to England after this trip, McPhulach?" asked the Captain abruptly.

McPhulach ceased rubbing the bra.s.s rails, and stared at Calamity in astonishment.

"Tae England?" he repeated.

"Yes. I may want you in connection with that doc.u.ment you signed, and quite possibly I shall be able to give you a good sh.o.r.e job."

"It a' depends," answered the engineer thoughtfully. "Ye see, skeeper, I hae sairtain financial obleegations in that country which I canna dischairge. An' meybe there are ane or twa leddies who'd mak' it no verra pleasant for me gin they were tae ken I was back."

"H'm; I should have thought that a man of your resource and experience could have overcome that difficulty."

McPhulach considered for a little time, and the cloud on his brow lifted.

"I ken brawly wha' tae dae, sir!" he exclaimed. "Gin ye'll ca' me Jones and give oot that I'm a Welshman, there's no a body who'd recognise me."

Something like a chuckle escaped the Captain, but he answered in a perfectly grave voice.

"If you think that device will overcome your difficulties, I have no objection to calling you Jones and informing all whom it may concern that you're a Welshman."

"Frae Pontypreed."

"From Pontypridd, if you like. That sounds Welsh enough."

"Then I'll sign on wi' ye, sir."

"Right, then that's settled," answered Calamity, and McPhulach, preening himself upon his astuteness, returned to the engine-room.

That evening, when Miss Fletcher came on the bridge to relieve the Captain, he seemed inclined to linger.

"By the twenty-seventh," he said, "we ought to be in Singapore."

"In Singapore," murmured the girl, and nodded as if in answer to some unspoken thought.