This was tempting news, but tantalising too; for Martin knew that his getting any employment on board a ship of that class was hopeless. The money in his pocket would not pay one-fourth of the sum he had already borrowed, and if it had been enough for their passage-money, he could hardly have resolved to spend it. He explained this to Mr Bevan, and stated what their project was.
‘Why, that’s as wild as Eden every bit,’ returned his friend. ‘You must take your passage like a Christian; at least, as like a Christian as a fore-cabin passenger can; and owe me a few more dollars than you intend. If Mark will go down to the ship and see what passengers there are, and finds that you can go in her without being actually suffocated, my advice is, go! You and I will look about us in the meantime (we won’t call at the Norris’s unless you like), and we will all three dine together in the afternoon.’
Martin had nothing to express but gratitude, and so it was arranged. But he went out of the room after Mark, and advised him to take their passage in the Screw, though they lay upon the bare deck; which Mr Tapley, who needed no entreaty on the subject readily promised to do.
When he and Martin met again, and were alone, he was in high spirits, and evidently had something to communicate, in which he gloried very much.
‘I’ve done Mr Bevan, sir,’ said Mark.
‘Done Mr Bevan!’ repeated Martin.
‘The cook of the Screw went and got married yesterday, sir,’ said Mr Tapley.
Martin looked at him for farther explanation.
‘And when I got on board, and the word was passed that it was me,’ said Mark, ‘the mate he comes and asks me whether I’d engage to take this said cook’s place upon the passage home. “For you’re used to it,” he says; “you were always a-cooking for everybody on your passage out.” And so I was,’ said Mark, ‘although I never cooked before, I’ll take my oath.’
‘What did you say?’ demanded Martin.