“Yes, he has a will of his own, my dear doctor,” said the lieutenant, giving the middy a meaning glance, “but you must take him in hand. I prescribe my way; when you take him in hand next you must prescribe yours.”
“I intend so doing,” said the doctor, and he walked aft with the chief officer.
This was Frank Murray’s opportunity, and hurrying to the side, he leaned his arms upon the bulwarks and laughed till his sides ached before his companion fully realised the fact, his attention having been taken up by the pair who were going towards where the captain was slowly pacing the deck with his hands behind him.
“Oh, grinning at it all, are you?” said Roberts now. “It’s very funny, isn’t it! An abominable, pragmatical, self-satisfied ass, that’s what he is; and are we almost grown-up men to be handed over to be treated just as he pleases? No; I’ll resign the service first. Yes, laugh away, my fine fellow! You see if I don’t pay you out for this! Oh, go it! But you see if I take any of his beastly old stuff!”
Chapter Sixteen.
“Cold Pison.”
Roberts kept his word that same evening, for just as the darkness was setting in and the two lads had walked forward to lean over the side and gaze down at the unruffled transparent sea and wonder which were reflections of the golden glory of the stars and which were the untold myriads of phosphorescent creatures that, as far down as eye could penetrate, spangled the limpid sea, the lad suddenly gave his companion a nudge with his elbow.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Murray.