A Visit from the Hornets.
“Upon my word, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, as he had the men drawn up before him as soon as they reached the Seafowl—“Upon my word, sir, I am delighted. I entrust you with a couple of boats’ crews to carry out a necessary duty, and you bring me back a scorched-up detachment only fit to go into hospital.”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said the chief officer shortly; “only one man wounded, and his injury is very slight.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, sir!” cried the captain. “Look at them, sir—look at them!”
“I have been looking at them, sir, for long enough—poor fellows—and I am truly sorry to have brought them back in such a state.”
“I should think you are, sir! Upon my word of honour I should think you are! But what have you been about?”
“Burning out the hornets’ nest, sir,” said the lieutenant bluffly.
“Well, I suppose you have done that thoroughly, Mr Anderson: but at what a cost! Is there to be no end to these misfortunes? First you allow yourself to be deluded by a slave-trading American and bring the Seafowl up here to be run aground, with the chance of becoming a total wreck—”
“I beg your pardon, sir!”
“Well, not total—perhaps not total, Mr Anderson; but she is in a terribly bad position.”