"I've put that man off time after time," he said; "he'll not wait much longer, and then--G.o.d help us all!"

Kisseck laughed. "You're allis in Paddy's hurricane--right up and down,"

he said, jeeringly. "Yer raely wuss till ever."

"I tell you the storm is coming," said Christian, with some vexation.

"Then keep your weather eye liftin', that's all," said Kisseck, loftily.

Christian turned aside with an impatient gesture. After a pause he said, "You wouldn't talk to me like that, Kisseck, if I hadn't been a weak fool with you. It's a true saying that when you tell your servant your secret you make him your master."

Then Kisseck altered his manner and became suave.

"What's to be done?" said Christian, irritated at some humiliating compliments.

"I've somethin' terrible fine up here," said Kisseck, tapping his forehead mysteriously. Christian smiled rather doubtfully.

"It'll get you out of this shoal water, anyhow," said the skipper.

"What is it?" asked Christian.

"The tack we've been on lately isn't worth workin'. It isn't what it was in the good ould days, when the Frenchmen and the Dutchmen came along with the Injin and Chinee goods, and we just run alongside in wherries and whipped them up. Too many hands at the trade now."

"So, smuggling, like everything else, has gone to the dogs," said Christian, with another grim smile.

"But I've a big consarn on now," whispered Kisseck.

"What?"

"Och, a shockin' powerful skame! Listen!"

And Kisseck whispered again in Christian's ear, but the words escaped Danny.

"No, no, that'll not do," said Christian, emphatically.

"Aw, and why not at all?"

"Why not? _Why_ not? Because it's murder, nothing less."

"Now, what's the use of sayin' the lek o' that. Aw, the shockin'

notions. Well, well, and do ye raely think a person's got no feelin's?

Murder? Aw, well now, well now! I didn't think it of you, Christian, that I didn't."

And Kisseck took a step or two up and down the deck with the air of an injured man.

Just then Crennel, the cook, came up to say breakfast was ready. All hands, save the men at the tiller, went below. A huge dish of herrings and a similar dish of potatoes stood on the table. Each man dipped in with his hands, lifted his herrings onto his plate, ran his fingers from tail to head, swept all the flesh off the fresh fish, and threw away the bare backbone. Such was the breakfast; and while it was being eaten there was much chaff among the men at Danny Fayle's expense. It was--

"Aw, you wouldn't think it's true, would ye now?"

"And what's that?" with a "glime" at Danny.

"Why, that the lek o' yander is tackin' round the gels."

"Do ye raely mane it?"

"Yes, though, and sniffin' and snuffin' abaft of them astonishin'."

"Aw, well, well, well."

Not a sign from Danny.

"Yes, yes, the craythur's doin' somethin' in the spoony line," said Kisseck. "Him as hasn't got the hayseed out of his hair yet."

"And who's the lady, Danny?" asked Christian, with a smile.

Danny was silent.

"Why, who else but that gel of Kinvig's, Mona Cregeen," said Kisseck.

Christian dropped his herring.

"Aw, well," said Tommy Tear, "d'ye mane that gal on the brew with the widda, and the wee craythur?"

"Yes, the little skite and the ould sukee, the mawther," said Kisseck.

Davy Cain pretended to come to Danny's relief.

"And a raal good gel, anyhow, Danny," he said in a patronizing way.

"Amazin' thick they are. Oh, ay, Danny got to the lee of her--takes a cup of tay up there, and the like of that."

"Aw, well, it isn't raisonable but the lad should be coortin' some gel now," said Davy.

"What's that?" shouted Kisseck, dropping the banter rather suddenly.

"What, and not a farthin' at him? And owin' me a fortune for the bringin' up?"

"No matter, Bill, and don't ride a man down like a maintack. One of these fine mornings Danny will be payin' his debt to you with the foretopsail."

"And look at him there," said Tommy Tear, reaching round Davy Cain to prod Danny in the ribs--"look at him pretendin' he never knows nothin'."

But the big tears were near to toppling out of Danny's eyes. He got up, and leaving his unfinished breakfast, began to climb the hatchway.

"Aw, now, look at that," cried Tommy Tear, with affected solemnity.

Davy Cain followed Danny, put an arm round his waist, and tried to draw him back. "Don't mind the loblolly-boys, Danny veg," said Davy coaxingly. Danny pushed him away with an angry word.

"What's that he said?" asked Kisseck.

"Nothin'; he only cussed a bit," said Davy.