Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Arrived at her side, it was soon evident, from the throng of seamen in Dutch dresses that displayed themselves, that her crew were on the alert, and a rope having been thrown down to the skipper, he speedily hoisted himself on deck. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. ‘You don’t know the whole, child. She still had her letter of credit. “I don’t believe there is one. " CHAPTER XI.
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