Part 17

Before the mate could accept the invitation, he was dragged back by his wife, while at the same time Mrs. Bunnett, with a frantic scream, threw her arms round her husband’s neck, and dared him to move.

“You wait till I get you ashore, my lad,” said the skipper threateningly.

“I’ll have to bring the ship home after I’ve done with you,” retorted the mate as he passed up on deck with his wife.

During the afternoon the couples exchanged not a word, though the two husbands exchanged glances of fiery import, and later on, their spouses being below, gradually drew near to each other. The mate, however, had been thinking, and as they came together met his foe with a pleasant smile.

“Bravo, old man,” he said heartily.

“What d’yer mean?” demanded the skipper in gruff astonishment.

“I mean the way you pretended to row me,” said the mate. “Splendid you did it. I tried to back you up, but lor! I wasn’t in it with you.”

“What, d’yer mean to say you didn’t mean what you said?” inquired the other.

“Why, o’ course,” said the mate with an appearance of great surprise. “You didn’t, did you?”

“No,” said the skipper, swallowing something in his throat. “No, o’ course not. But you did it well, too, George. Uncommon well, you did.”

“Not half so well as you did,” said the mate. “Well, I s’pose we’ve got to keep it up now.”

“I s’pose so,” said the skipper; “but we mustn’t keep it up on the same things, George. Swallerin’ knives an’ that sort o’ thing, I mean.”

“No, no,” said the mate hastily.

“An’ if you could get your missus to go home by train from Summercove, George, we might have a little peace and quietness,” added the other.

“She’d never forgive me if I asked her,” said the mate; “you’ll have to order it, cap’n.”

“I won’t do that, George,” said the skipper firmly. “I’d never treat a lady like that aboard my ship. I ’ope I know ’ow to behave myself if I do eat with my knife.”

“Stow that,” said the mate, reddening. “We’ll wait an’ see what turns up,” he added hopefully.

For the next three days nothing fresh transpired, and the bickering between the couples, assumed on the part of the men and virulent on the part of their wives, went from bad to worse. It was evident that the ladies preferred it to any other amusement life on ship-board could offer, and, after a combined burst of hysterics on their part, in which the whole ship’s company took a strong interest, the husbands met to discuss heroic remedies.

“It’s getting worse and worse,” said the skipper ruefully. “We’ll be the laughing-stock o’ the crew even afore they’re done with us. There’s another day afore we reach Summercove, there’s five or six days there, an’ at least five back again.”

“There’ll be murder afore then,” said the mate, shaking his head.

“If we could only pack ’em both ’ome by train,” continued the skipper.

“That’s an expense,” said the mate.

“It ’ud be worth it,” said the other.

“An’ they wouldn’t do it,” said the mate, “neither of ’em.”

“I’ve seen women having rows afore,” said the skipper, “but then they could get away from each other. It’s being boxed up in this little craft as does the mischief.”

“S’pose we pretend the ship’s not seaworthy,” said the mate.

“Then they’d stand by us,” said the skipper, “closer than ever.”

“I b’leeve they would,” said the mate. “They’d go fast enough if we’d got a case o’ small-pox or anything like that aboard, though.”