“Very well, Mr Jones,” said Captain Drawlock, who could now restrain himself no longer. “You must excuse me, ladies, for a moment or two, but our commodore is so very prudent a man, and I am under his orders. In a short time I hope to return to the pleasure of your society.”
Captain Drawlock’s departure was followed by that of all the male party, with the exception of Doctor Plausible and Mr Ferguson, both of whom however were anxious to go upon deck, and ascertain how matters stood.
“Mr Ferguson, where are you going?” said his wife, sharply. “Pray, sir, do us the favour to remain. Your profession, if I mistake not, is one of peace.”
“Oh! Doctor Plausible, I feel very unwell,” cried Miss Tavistock.
“I will stay with you, my dear madam,” replied the doctor.
A gun from the commodore’s ship, which was close to windward of them, burst upon their ears, rattling the cabin windows, and making every wine-glass on the table to dance with the concussion.
“Oh! oh! oh!” screamed Miss Tavistock, throwing herself back in her chair, and expanding her arms and fingers.
Doctor Plausible flew to the lady’s assistance.
“The extreme fineness of her organic structure—a little water, if you please, Miss Charlotte Revel.”
A tumbler of water was poured out, and Doctor Plausible, dipping the tip of his fore-finger into it, passed it lightly over the lady’s brows. “She will be better directly.”