“Ha, ha! I see zat you know all that am posshible to tell about him!” exclaimed a high-pitched voice from the hatchway, and the next moment, to our great dismay, the crafty sallow visage of Miguel appeared, glaring at us through the steps of the ladder.
“What a mean spy-cat!” exclaimed Ned indignantly.
The gunner felt very much nonplussed.
“’Tain’t much use my giving you fellows good advice,” he said sotto voce, “when I let my own tongue wag and run away with me like that. The chief will have a down upon me now, that you may depend upon.”
I watched Miguel curiously to see what he would do next, fully expecting that he would come and insult us in some way, for I knew quite well what a mean and petty nature the man had. To my surprise, however, he only gave one of his sardonic grins, and then disappeared in his stealthy fashion up the companion ladder.
“A good riddance of bad rubbish,” said Ned contemptuously; “if there’s anything I loathe in this world it’s an eavesdropper. There’s only one thing worse, and that’s a religious hypocrite.”
“I only hope he didn’t hear you call him a mean spy-cat, Ned,” I said, anxiously regarding my coxswain.
“Bless your young heart, sir, I don’t care a snap of the fingers if he did or not. He can’t do me more harm than he has already, I take it.”
“I wouldn’t give him the chance if I were you, my man,” said Mr. Triggs in a low tone. “For the future we’d best just talk in whispers, for that swab is sure to be up to his spy-catting tricks again from time to time.”
This was good advice, and we determined that we would follow it.