“I told you, my lads,” said Bob Cross, “that I have been on board of a man-of-war before this, and you’d better mind what you’re about, or you’ll repent it; at all events, if one of you touches him, you’ll have five dozen lashes at the gangway before to-morrow morning.”
This made the poor fellows more quiet; most of them lay down, and tried to sleep off their misery.
“Why don’t you make yourself known, Mr Keene?” said Cross to me, in a whisper: “I saw the master go on the quarterdeck just now.”
“I think I had better not: there are more houses to examine, and if my trick was known, it would soon get wind from the women, and I should be waylaid, and perhaps murdered by the crimps. The captain will be on board by ten o’clock, I have no doubt, and then I will contrive to see him, somehow or another.”
“But you could trust the master—why not see him?”
“I’ll think of it—but there’s no hurry.”
I was afraid that Tommy Dott would have discovered me, and I kept out of his way as much as I could.
“I’ll tell you what, sir—as I’ve not joined the ship, why not let it be supposed that I am impressed with the other men, and then I can send for Mr Dott and make myself known? The commanding officer will, of course, send for me, and I will enter, and then I shall be allowed to go about, and can speak to the captain when he comes on board.”
“Well, that is not a bad idea. Talk to the sentry.”
“Who’s the captain of this ship, sentry?” said Bob Cross.