The lieutenant turned upon him sharply.
“Yes,” he said, “I suppose you do mean that. Well, Mr Roberts, I hope you feel none the worse?”
“No, sir; yes, sir, I—no sir, not at all the worse.”
“I am glad of it. But you had a very narrow escape. Your life was saved by Murray’s bravery. A very gallant action, my lad—manly and brave; but no more of such gallant actions, if you please. I have quite enough responsibilities in connection with my duties on this ship without being worried with a pack of boys risking their lives for the sake of catching a fish or two, so let me have no more of it. Do you hear? There, you need not speak.”
The lieutenant turned short round and marched away frowning, leaving the lads looking at one another for a few minutes, before Murray whispered, “Come along forward,” with the result that they made for a favourite spot where, well out of sight of the quarter-deck, they could rest their folded arms upon the rail and gaze down into the transparent water which glided by the sloop’s cut-water with hardly a ripple, so soft was the breeze which filled the crowd of canvas that had been set.
“I thought we should get it,” said Roberts, after a few minutes’ silence.
“Oh, never mind, old chap,” said his companion quietly. “You got off pretty easy.”
“I did? Oh, come; it was you who got off easy. ‘A very gallant act,’ didn’t he say?”
“Something of the kind.”
“Yes; ‘a very gallant act.’ You always get the praise, Frank,” said Roberts gloomily. “It has always been so ever since we joined. One is expected to devote himself in every way possible to learning one’s profession, and for reward one gets bullied and blamed for pretty well everything. Nobody ever told me that I had performed a very gallant act.”