“That infernal target?” he said. “It is alongside the wall—right at the far end. What an hour to send you out after it! I’m afraid you have a long job of repairs; it was knocked about a bit. Come down into the Wardroom before you start.”
John went below and accepted whisky and soda, an illegal proceeding, for by regulation he was too young to drink spirits. They offered cigarettes, and when he refused to smoke one because his crew was waiting, they gave him a handful to take away with him.
“You’ll have time to smoke them all before you get home to-night,” said the Gunnery Lieutenant. “Well, so long. You will have luck if you are turned in before the end of the middle watch. Sorry you have had so far to come.”
A long pull shoreward brought the cutter at last to the target. John turned out the carpenter’s party and all the boat’s crew save one, whom he kept with him as a boat-keeper. John soon found that in the man he had retained he was to have a remarkable companion. He came aft, seated himself in the stern sheets, and looked up expectantly.
“’Ave a smoke, sir?”
“Yes; carry on smoking.”
“’Ave a cigar, sir?”
John hesitated. He would have felt safer with one of the Vera’s cigarettes. He was not inured to cigars, but for company’s sake he took one and lighted it.
“Funny thing, sir,” the man said, “these night trips always make me feel mysterious-like. You feel more powerful some’ow in the dark. Do it take you that way, sir?”