“Oh! it’s my morning watch to-morrow. We shall be all snug; no sails to trim, no sails to set, and no holystoning the deck—nothing to do but to keep myself warm under the weather bulwarks.”
“Ah, you idle scamp,” said the first-lieutenant, smiling.
“So, young man, you wish us to be on deck all night, that you may have nothing to do in the morning. The day will come when you will know what responsibility is,” retorted Pearce.
“If you’re up all night, sir,” replied the boy, laughing, “you’ll want a cup of coffee in the morning watch. I shall come in for my share of that, you know.”
“Ah, well, it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,” observed Pearce, “but you are young to be selfish.”
“Indeed I am not selfish, sir,” replied the boy, hurt at the rebuke from one who had been kind to him, and to whom he was attached. “I was only joking. I only meant,” continued he, feeling deeply, but not at the moment able to describe his feelings—“I only said—oh! Damn the coffee.”
“And now you are only swearing, I suppose,” replied the master.
“Well, it’s enough to make a saint swear to be accused of being selfish, and by you too.”
“Well, well, youngster, there’s enough of it—you spoke without thinking. Go down to your tea now, and you shall have your share of the coffee to-morrow, if there is any.”
After supper the watch was called, and the directions given by the captain to the first-lieutenant were punctually obeyed. The drum then beat to quarters earlier than usual; the guns were doubly secured; the dead-lights shipped abaft; the number of inches of water in the well made known by the carpenter; the sobriety of the men ascertained by the officers stationed at their respective guns; and everything that was ordered to be executed, or to be held in readiness, in the several departments, reported to the captain.