“No, Captain Pardoe; I will stop here.”
Suddenly the glare over the bows from the forward lamps died out, there was a sharp ring of the engineer’s bell, a sound of men in hot haste thrusting at the fires, and the vessel began to quiver and vibrate to the beat of vast engines working faster and faster.
There was a rush of wind on Frank’s face, the dark objects on the shore swiftly receded into the general blur, and the water foamed up at the bows and fell away in curling waves.
“Are all the lights out, Mr Webster?”
“Yes, sir; all but a light from a starboard port.”
“It’s that swab of a passenger,” growled the Captain; “I’ll have him tied to his bunk.”
Frank, warned that he was guilty of some unpardonable indiscretion, crawled down from the top bunk, and had just reached the floor, when the handle turned, there was a quick step, a rustle, and the light was switched off, not before he had seen the dark eyes flashing in resentment.
“If you behave in this way, sir, I’ll not stand between you and discipline.”
“Really, I did not know I was doing anything wrong.”
“Shut the port-hole,” she said sharply.