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“Your cook is lying like a rotten mermaid,” Misha answered, looking sideways at the captain and carefully choosing the words. — Do I look like a brainless poop? No, Misha has got a smart head on his shoulders and knows his worth. And be sure, I'm not my own enemy, no way! Well, if I really wanted to be dried up, like a flounder in the sun, from unrequited love, then, of course, I would hang around for that beauty from the “Sailor's Shelter”. But I know my own worth, as well as hers. So, she's not for me, definitely!
— That's right, — the cook agreed, looking out of the galley viewport, attracted either by sailors’ laughter or by mentioning his name. He was a steady man in his sixties, Every time when he left his cramped galley for a walk on deck of the ship, he always had a pipe in his teeth, puffing in the fresh air to his pleasure. For some reason, he used only Spanish tobacco, strong, but fragrant, scenting with aroma of exotic plants. Many older sailors, using their privilege of long-term friendship with him, asked him to puff on his pipe at least once to enjoy the unknown sensation, but they always received a decisive refusal. — Yes, even if you put all gold in the world at her feet, she won’t even look at you, Misha.
— Why is that, Alexander Petrovich? Misha was really hurt and even clenched his fists from undeserved resentment.
Unlike Misha, the ship’s cook has not yet forgotten that he had compared him to a rotten mermaid, and therefore decided to take a revenge in their conversation. However, in order to do that he had to leave the galley and smoke his favorable pipe. After taking a puff, he suddenly calmed down and said peacefully.
— Well, Misha, you know… that beauty would go with the poorest beggar in the world if she fell in love with him. But if she didn’t fall in love — all is in vain, no matter if you were rich Croesus, or, for example, this flag-pole, everything is the same for her. Do you remember the skipper from the "Swift" ship? What a guy he was! Not a patch on you! But even he left with nothing.
Indeed, even the boatswain cannot afford to quarrel with the ship’s cook.
— Well, actually, I don’t argue, Alexander Petrovich — said Misha, breathing with relief. — I tell you, she is no match for me, she is out of my league to run after.
— You are quite right, a fat chance you have of winning! — the cook confirmed patronizingly. And a moment later he added in a such a low voice, that only the sailors nearby could hear him. — I know one lucky guy to whom she gave her heart. Well, but he flatly refused this gift.
The listeners got excited surrounding him tightly, they asked not to torment them and tell everything as it was, if he had hinted anyway. Alexander Petrovich puffed a couple of times with his pipe, then put a warning finger to his lips and nodded mysteriously in the direction of the captain's bridge.
— Once I heard her conversation with our captain, — he began his story. — We were staying in the port, filling the ship’s hold with cargo. I went out on deck to smoke my evening pipe. It was getting dark already. Everyone around was fussing, running to and fro… I felt like if Saint Peter himself, the sailors’ patron saint had appeared on deck, no one would have paid attention to him. Well, I noticed her from a distance. One can't hide such beauty under any hat, no matter how much one tries. Her long black hair were shining like a raven's wing… Tall, willowy, sharp she was, like a flamenco dancer. I saw such women in Spain in the days of my youth. God forbid, to stand in her way, and even worse — to fall in love with her …
The cook got silent for a while, thinking about something, he even forgot about his pipe. The sailors did not rush him, realizing that he had accidently touched some hidden strings in his soul, awakened some forgotten memories, and if they interrupted him — they would never hear the story up to the end. But just have a little patience — and everything would return to normal condition. So, it happened just like that. The next moment Alexander Petrovich released a fragrant cloud of smoke, and started talking again.
— So, she sneaked up to our ship, waited for a right moment and, like a cat, slid down the ladder, and then ran straight to the captain's cabin. Whether he was waiting for her or not, I don’t know for sure. But he didn’t immediately drive her away, which means that there was something between them, that’s for sure. Well, I know our captain better than any of you, lubbers. He would never tolerate a woman on board the ship for a single minute. But with that lady, he had been talking about something for about half an hour. I saw the flickering light through the viewport of his cabin — so he was nervously pacing, explaining something to her. While she was silently listening to him, standing still, without interruption. And this is a clear sign that a woman loves desperately. She had been listening to him for some time and then turned around silently and left the cabin. So pale she was and unhappy, trembling all over, as if she was going to faint. I was about to support her, so that she would not fall right on deck, but she pushed me away, so tough