“You are under arrest, sir. Go! No; stop and hear me out first, sir. I say that, through your delay, I am kept there on that wretched wharf; and when I do push off, I have—I, Her Majesty’s representative, in the sight of these Chinese scoundrels—I have, I say, to suffer from the insult and contumely of being pelted, stoned, of having filth thrown at me. Look at my nearly new uniform coat, sir. Do you see this spot on the sleeve? A mark that will never come out. That was a blow, sir, made by a disgusting rotten fish’s head, sir. Loathsome—loathsome! While the insult to Her Majesty’s flag called upon me to fire upon the mob. Do you know what that means, sir?”
“Yes, sir; a good lesson. They won’t be so saucy again.”
“You ignorant young puppy!” he cried; “it may mean a serious international trouble—a diplomatic breach, and all through you. There, I was hot and bad enough before, now you have made me worse.”
He stretched out his hand for the glass, but did not drink; and the sight of the cool liquid half-maddened me, for the heat and emotion had made my throat very dry.
“Now, sir,” he cried, “I am your commanding officer, and no one on board Her Majesty’s cruiser shall ever say that I am not just. Now then, speak out; what have you to say? How came you to let the men go away to drink?”
“I didn’t, sir,” I said huskily. “They wanted to go, for they were choking nearly, but I wouldn’t let them.”
“What? Don’t seek refuge in a lie, boy. That’s making your fault ten times worse. Didn’t I see you returning to the wharf?”
“Yes, sir,” I cried indignantly; “but the men had not been to drink.”
“Then how dared you disobey my orders, and go away?” he roared, furious at being proved wrong.
“I went, sir, because it was my duty.”