“Look here,” said Dick, in a low voice. “There’s going to be trouble over this. Black Mazzard’s captain now, he says, and he’s got to be asked. He was down here swearing about that boat being sent off, and he’s been drunk and savage ever since.”
“Hist! What’s that?” said Dinny, starting up, and then catching at Bart’s shoulder to save himself from falling. “Head swims,” he said, apologetically.
“Ay, you’re weak, lad,” said Bart, helping him back to his seat. “Why, the boat’s back!”
He hurried on deck, to find a boat alongside, out of which four men climbed on deck, while Jack Dell, who had just heard the hail, came hurrying up.
“Well?” he said. “What news?”
The one spoken to turned away and did not answer.
“Do you hear?” cried Jack, catching him by the shoulder as a heavy-looking man came on deck, lurched slightly, recovered himself, and then walked fiercely and steadily up to the group.
“Bad news, captain,” said another of the men, who had just come aboard.
“Bad—news?” said Jack, heavily.
“Bad news of the Commodore!” said the heavy-looking fellow, who was now swaying himself to and fro, evidently drunk in body but sober in mind.