“Prestige,” said Fitz, laughing.
“Oh! that’s it, was it, sir? Well, I’m glad you told me. Where does that come in?”
“Why, all through. Shows how English men-of-war’s-men have helped to frighten these mongrels into surrender. Haven’t you?”
“Well, I dunno about me, sir. I dare say the sight of the Camel there has scared them a bit. Wherever he showed his teeth, they must have said to themselves, ‘What a beggar that would be to bite!’ And I suppose that made them a bit the readier to chuck it up as they did. But it’s just what I said. We Teals have been ornamental all through this job, and I should have liked to have had just one more go in by way of putting a neat finish.”
“Oh, you’ve got job enough coming off,” said Poole. “There’s your work,” and he pointed to the gunboat lying about a quarter of a mile away.
The carpenter became serious directly, frowned severely, laid his coxswain’s boat-hook across his knees, and took off his straw hat to give his dewy forehead a couple of wipes with his bare mahogany-brown arms.
“Yes, gentlemen,” he said, “that’s a big handful for one man, and I feel a bit staggered, and get thinking every now and then that it was the biggest bit of cheek I ever showed in my life.”
“What was?” said Fitz.
“What was, sir? Why, to say that I would get that there vessel off them rocks. There are times when I feel skeered, and ready to tuck my tail between my legs and run away like a frightened dog.”
“You!” cried Fitz, and the two lads laughed heartily.