“Yes,” came spoken simultaneously.
“Then come on, we must find him now.”
He took a step or two forward, and the others followed, but a moment later Smith seized him by the arm.
“No, sir,” he cried. “It won’t do, and I should be no man if I let you go.”
“Loose my arm!” cried Panton, angrily. “Recollect, sir, who you are!”
“I do, sir,” said the man stoutly; “but you’re not my officer, only a passenger; and if our poor old captain was alive, or if Mr Rimmer was here, he’d say I was quite right.”
“What do you mean, sir?” cried Panton, whom the exposure to the mephitic gases had left irritable and strange.
“I mean, sir, as it’s my dooty to stop you from going to sartain death, and you may say what you like, and call me what you like, but me and my mate, Billy Wriggs, is going to stop you, so there.”
“Such insolence!” cried Panton angrily.
“All right, sir. You’re going to do as I do, aren’t you, Billy?”