“Ay, ay, Captain Cuttle,” returned Walter, “only me”
“What’s the matter, my lad?” inquired the Captain, with great concern. “Gills an’t been and sprung nothing again?”
“No, no,” said Walter. “My Uncle’s all right, Captain Cuttle.”
The Captain expressed his gratification, and said he would come down below and open the door, which he did.
“Though you’re early, Wal”r,” said the Captain, eyeing him still doubtfully, when they got upstairs:
“Why, the fact is, Captain Cuttle,” said Walter, sitting down, “I was afraid you would have gone out, and I want to benefit by your friendly counsel.”
“So you shall,” said the Captain; “what’ll you take?”
“I want to take your opinion, Captain Cuttle,” returned Walter, smiling. “That’s the only thing for me.”
“Come on then,” said the Captain. “With a will, my lad!”
Walter related to him what had happened; and the difficulty in which he felt respecting his Uncle, and the relief it would be to him if Captain Cuttle, in his kindness, would help him to smooth it away; Captain Cuttle’s infinite consternation and astonishment at the prospect unfolded to him, gradually swallowing that gentleman up, until it left his face quite vacant, and the suit of blue, the glazed hat, and the hook, apparently without an owner.