“Why, why,” he begun, speaking pettishly, and very fast, “what’s all this about?—Mr. Jermin, Mr. Jermin— carpenter, carpenter; what are you doing down there? Come on deck; come on deck.”

Whereupon Doctor Long Ghost cries out in a squeak, “Ah! Miss Guy, is that you? Now, my dear, go right home, or you’ll get hurt.”

“Pooh, pooh! you, sir, whoever you are, I was not speaking to you; none of your nonsense. Mr. Jermin, I was talking to you; have the kindness to come on deck, sir; I want to see you.”

“And how, in the devil’s name, am I to get there?” cried the mate, furiously. “Jump down here, Captain Guy, and show yourself a man. Let me up, you Chips! unhand me, I say! Oh! I’ll pay you for this, some day! Come on, Captain Guy!”

At this appeal, the poor man was seized with a perfect spasm of fidgets. “Pooh, pooh, carpenter; have done with your nonsense! Let him up, sir; let him up! Do you hear? Let Mr. Jermin come on deck!”

“Go along with you, Paper Jack,” replied Beauty; “this quarrel’s between the mate and me; so go aft, where you belong!”

As the captain once more dipped his head down the scuttle to make answer, from an unseen hand he received, full in the face, the contents of a tin can of soaked biscuit and tea—leaves. The doctor was not far off just then. Without waiting for anything more, the discomfited gentleman, with both hands to his streaming face, retreated to the quarter—deck.

A few moments more, and Jermin, forced to a compromise, followed after, in his torn frock and scarred face, looking for all the world as if he had just disentangled himself from some intricate piece of machinery. For about half an hour both remained in the cabin, where the mate’s rough tones were heard high above the low, smooth voice of the captain.

Of all his conflicts with the men, this was the first in which Jermin had been worsted; and he was proportionably enraged. Upon going below—as the steward afterward told us—he bluntly informed Guy that, for the future, he might look out for his ship himself; for his part, he had done with her, if that was the way he allowed his officers to be treated. After many high words, the captain finally assured him that, the first fitting opportunity, the carpenter should be cordially flogged; though, as matters stood, the experiment would be a hazardous one. Upon this Jermin reluctantly consented to drop the matter for the present; and he soon drowned all thoughts of it in a can of flip, which Guy had previously instructed the steward to prepare, as a sop to allay his wrath.

Nothing more ever came of this.