“I hope not, sir. I think I saved the ship.”
“Saved? saved? Good gracious me, Mr Leigh,” said the lieutenant, bursting out laughing; “what madness! Here, Waters—Tully—do you hear this?”
“Ay, ay, your honour.”
“And what do you think of it?”
“As we’d all have gone to the bottom, sir, if it hadn’t been for Mr Leigh here,” said Waters, pulling his forelock.
“Oh!” said the lieutenant sharply; “and pray what do you think, Tully; and you, bo’sun?”
“Think just the same as Billy Waters, your honour,” said the boatswain.
“And that ’ere’s just the same with me,” growled Tom Tully, kicking out a leg behind. “He’s a won’ful smart orsifer Muster Leigh is, your honour; and that’s so.”
“Silence, sir! How dare you speak like that?” cried the lieutenant furiously. “Now, Mr Leigh,” he added sarcastically, “if you will condescend to assist, there is a good deal to see to, for the forepart of His Majesty’s ship Kestrel is a complete wreck from your neglect. I am going below to finish dressing, but I shall be back directly.”
Hilary returned his officer’s sarcastic bow, and then gave a stamp on the deck.