"It's generally always his one fault capsizes a man," the seaman continued. "And so it were with poor old Bert—he warn't Black at that time o day, yo'll understand."
"What's the rights o that yarn, Reube?" grumbled a deep voice.
"I ca'ant rightly tall ye because I don't justly knaw, Abe. They said this here Mr. Lucy—Love-me Lucy they called him in the ward-room—got messin about a'ter Diamond's gal. But anyways there it were. Diamond struck him—struck his officer."
"What happened?"
"Why, sir; flogged round the Fleet."
A man spat noisily on the deck.
"Maybe you've never seen a man flogged round the Fleet?"
"Never."
"Then heaven help you never may, sir. I'd liefer fight a gun in the waist through farty Fleet-actions, than see one man go through that—wouldn't you, Abe?"
"Ay, that I would," grumbled the deep voice.