“And pray what have you to say for yourself?”
“Nothing that I knows on,” said Ram. “Yes, I have. I say father’s gone, and I dessay he won’t come back for ever so long, and I don’t want to go among the Dutchmen. May I stop here ’long of him? There won’t be no more smuggling to do.”
“You mean you want to volunteer for His Majesty’s service?”
“Yes, that’s it,” said Ram cheerfully. “May I?”
“Yes,” said Lieutenant Brough shortly. “There; you can go below.”
Ram waved his red cap, tossed it in the air, and turned to Archy.
“I say, orficer,” he said, “I know where your little sword is. You send one of your chaps to-morrow to mother, and tell her I’m aboard and going to be a sailor, and she’s to give him your little sword as father put in the top drawer.”
Archy’s eyes sparkled, for the loss of his dirk was a bitter memory.
“Humph!” said the lieutenant, as Ram went below; “not a bad sort of boy. Well, Mr Raystoke, will that do?”
Archy shook the hand held out, and went aft to gaze at the cliff, feeling that somehow he liked Ram Shackle.