“Stop, Daunton; this is a singular encounter, and a still more singular conference. As an old schoolfellow, you ask me to give you my protection. The protection of a reefer is, in itself, something laughable; and then, as an inducement, you confess to me that you are a villain, only in guilt just short of murder. Perhaps, by this bravado sort of confession, you have endeavoured to give me a worse impression of your character than it really deserves, that you might give me the better opinion of your sincerity. Is it not so?”
“In a great measure, it is.”
“I thought so. Now let me tell you, Daunton, that that very circumstance makes me afraid of you. But, still, I will not cast aside the appeal of an old schoolfellow. What can I do for you?”
“Give me the protection afforded me by a man-of-war, by taking me as your servant.”
“Utterly impossible! I can press you directly, or give the hint to any of the many men-of-war here to do so. But the rules of the service do not permit a midshipman to have a separate servant. Do you wish to enter?”
“Only on board of your ship, and with the privilege of waiting upon you, and being constantly near your person.”
“Thank you; but what prevents my impressing you, even as you stand there?”
“These very ample protections.” And he produced them.
“Yes! I see that you are well provided. But why give up your good berth on board the London?”
“Mr Rattlin, I have my reasons. Permit them, as yet, to remain secret. There is no guilt attached to them. May I sail with you in the capacity of your servant?”