The Lieutenant turned sharply, and shouted after his superior officer.
Captain Pardoe knitted his black brows, and was about to speak again, but turned to walk off, when he was joined by Frank.
“I understood what he said, sir.”
“So did I, Hume, but I don’t fear the fort’s guns. It is necessary to humour them, and with a little judicious palming we might win our object, but I have no genius for that work.”
“May I try, sir?”
“Certainly, Hume, do what you like, for at the worst we can throw them overboard.”
“Then, sir, set the hands to clean the ship, and send Webster ashore to lay in a stock of vegetables, fruit, and fresh meat.”
“Since when were you appointed purser, Mr Hume?”
“It will show them you do not mean to leave in a hurry, and we’ll lull their suspicions.”
The Captain issued his orders at once, and in a few minutes Webster, with the chief engineer, Mr Dixon, were being rowed ashore, while half a dozen salts, with bare legs, were turning the hose on the grimy deck, and the stokers, black almost as sweeps, came on deck to hang over the bows and pull at their well-seasoned clay pipes.