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“God be thanked! For once I wasn’t suspected,” Tinkler went on. “How do you explain that? If he had asked me I should have denied, of course, that I’d had anything to do with his rotten coconuts. But I’m afraid my guilty conscience might have given me away this time. I was so damned sorry for Christian.”

“Did Christian know that you had taken some of the nuts?”

“Not some—only one, mind you! As I’ve told you, there were fellow conspirators. Of course he did. In fact, he saw me do it and looked the other way, as any decent officer was bound to do. It wasn’t as though we were endangering the safety of the vessel. Four coconuts missing, that’s all—I give you my word. Four out of how many thousands? And I was responsible for only one. Well, if I sleep over my sins, perhaps they won’t seem so black to-morrow.”

Tinkler was like the ship’s cat; he could curl up anywhere for a nap. He now lay down by one of the quarter-deck guns, with his arm for a pillow, and, as I thought, was soon fast asleep.