“It’s the middy laddie’s soup fresh made, joost luvely.”
“Oh yes, splendid,” said the lad, and he hurriedly stated his wants, had them supplied, and went back to the cabin ready to prepare for catching the first fish.
“Look here, Burnett,” he said, “it’ll be very awkward fishing out of this window. How’d it be if I put a cane-chair close up under the rail? Don’t you think you could manage if I helped you up there?”
“I don’t know. I am afraid I couldn’t walk,” said the boy dubiously. “I’d try.”
“Oh, never mind about your walking! If you’ll come I’ll run up and put a chair ready, and then come back for you. I could carry you easily enough if I got you on my back.”
One moment Fitz had been looking bright and eager; the next a gloomy shade was passing over his face.
“Like a sack,” he said bitterly.
“Well, then, shall I make two of the lads carry you in a chair?”
“No,” said the boy, brightening up again. “If I put my arm over your shoulder, and you get one round my waist, I think I could manage it if we went slowly.”
“To be sure,” cried Poole, and he hurried on deck, thrust a long cane reclining chair into the place he thought most suitable, and had just finished when his father came up.