That same night, as he was thinking about Ram Shackle, Archy went up to the lieutenant, who was walking up and down rubbing his hands.
“Beg pardon, sir, but may I ask a favour?”
“A dozen if you like, Raystoke, and I’ll grant them if I can. Want a run ashore?”
“No, sir. I want you to be easy with that boy. He was very kind to me when I was a prisoner.”
“Hum! Hah! Well, I don’t know what to say to that. Here, my man, fetch that boy on deck.”
Ram came up, whistling softly, and looking sharply from one to the other.
“Now, sir, take off your cap,” said the lieutenant sternly.
Ram did not look a bit afraid, but he doffed his red cap.
“I suppose you know, sir, that you’ll be sent to gaol?”
“Yes.—I knew you wouldn’t hang me.”