“You’re right, Dick,” whispered Murray. “Now for a wigging!”
“Well, young gentlemen,” saluted them the next minute; “what have you to say for yourselves?”
“Thank you, sir,” said Murray, drawing himself up and saluting, “we’re not a bit the worse for our little adventure.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the captain, looking at him sternly. “None the worse, eh?”
“No, sir, not a bit, and I don’t think Roberts is; eh, Roberts?”
“Perhaps not, Mr Murray; but perhaps you will allow me to question Mr Roberts.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Murray, colouring warmly.
“I do not grant it, sir,” said the captain stiffly; “and perhaps you will be good enough to bear in mind what are our relative positions—those of commander of this sloop of war and very junior officer. Now, Mr Roberts,” continued the captain sternly, as he half turned his back to Murray, “what have you to say for yourself?”
“Only that I’m very sorry to have been the cause of the trouble, sir.”
“Humph! That’s better,” said the captain, “if your sorrow is real.”