“Poor old gal! she feels just as if she was just let out of prison,” said the boatswain affectionately. “How well she looks!”
“Ay, she do,” said Billy Waters. “Well, Tom Tully, my lad, how d’yer feel?”
“Ready for suthin’ to do, matey,” said the big sailor. “But when’s old Lipscombe coming aboard?”
“I d’no,” said the gunner. “Wish he wasn’t coming at all. Wonder where we’re for. I’ve a good mind to ask Master Leigh. He’ll tell me if he can.”
“Ay, lad, do,” said the boatswain.
Just then Hilary came out of the cabin with a red spot in each cheek, and began walking up and down the deck and watching for the coming boat.
“Is all ready and shipshape, boatswain?” he said.
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Your guns well lashed, Waters?”
“Ay, ay, sir, and longing to have a bark. Beg pardon, sir, shall I get the fishing-lines out?”