“Well, Mr Keene,” said he, “I think you have quite recovered your colour by this time, and I hope to see you in the gig again.”
“I do not think I shall yet awhile—I have not yet learnt navigation enough; but the master says he will be done with me in a fortnight, if I go on as well as I do now.”
“Yes; I heard him tell the captain that you were very quick, and would be a good navigator but I can’t get over the loss of poor Tommy Dott; he was a little scampish, that’s sartin, but still he was a merry, kind-hearted boy—too good for the sharks, at all events. You must feel his loss, Mr Keene, for you were always together.”
“No, I don’t, Bob,” replied I.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear you say that, Mr Keene; I thought you had a kinder heart.”
“So I have, Bob; but I’ll tell you a secret, known only to the first lieutenant and me; and that is, Tommy’s in the coal-hole, very dirty, but quite safe.”
Bob Cross burst into a fit of laughing, which lasted some time.
“Well, Mr Keene, you have really taken a weight off my mind; now tell me all about it. You know I’m safe.”
I then told Bob what had happened, and of Tommy’s intention to make his appearance on the following evening or the next morning.
“Well,” said Bob, “you’re mischief itself, Master Keene, and that’s a fact; however, it’s all right this time, and you have the captain and first lieutenant as your confidants and partners in the joke. You did perfectly right and I’m sure the captain and first lieutenant must be pleased with you; but recollect, Master Keene, keep your distance as before; don’t presume.”