“Now, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant, “I don’t want to expose the lads to more of this unwholesome place than I can help, so you must use your brains as soon as we get word from the captain, and see that they start the fire where it will have the best effect. This abomination must disappear from the face of the earth, so where you begin to burn, start your fire well. You understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Murray, drawing a deep breath as he glanced at the doctor and found that he was watching him.
“I can’t help it,” he said to himself, as he stood alone in the shade watching the departing boat making for the sloop, “and I don’t know that I want to help it. It does seem a horrible thing to do, but they’re right, and it’s one’s duty. Wish I’d been handy, though, when the first luff wanted to send his message to the captain. Dick Roberts does somehow seem to get all the luck.”
It was just a dash of envy; but the feeling did not last, for his common sense began to make itself felt directly after, as he withdrew his gaze from the boat to watch the group of sturdy-looking men sharing his shelter, and all excited and eager as they discussed the events of the morning and the task they evidently knew that they had to do.
“Yes, it’s all envy, and envy is a poor, small, contemptible thing to encourage. I wish I had none. How stupid of me! One never knows. It would have been nice enough to sit back holding the lines and steering while the lads pulled, but only a lazy sort of a task, and here I am put in command of half-a-dozen or so of these stout lads to carry out the captain’s orders and see that they do the work well.”
Perhaps the fact of his thinking about the men and the work in prospect made him fix his eyes upon Tom May and think that he would like to have him in his party; perhaps not, but all the same the man turned his head just then and met his eyes, gave his waistband a hitch in front and rear, and then crossed a patch of sunshine and joined him in the shade.
“Yes, sir?” he said enquiringly.
“I did not call, Tom.”
“No, sir, but I thought you looked as if you was signalling me. Beg pardon, sir; I s’pose you know we’re going to burn out this here wasp nest?”
“I expect so, Tom.”