“Have you wine aboard?”
“I have ordered five cases, sir.”
“And tobacco?”
“There is a keg of Trinidad.”
“You play a hand at picquet?”
“Passably well, sir.”
“Then anchor up, and to sea!”
There was a fresh westerly wind, so by the time the sun was fairly through the morning haze, the ship was hull down from the islands. The decrepit Governor still limped the deck, with one guiding hand upon the quarter rail.
“You are on Government service now, captain,” said he. “They are counting the days till I come to Westminster, I promise you. Have you all that she will carry?”
“Every inch, Sir Charles.”