Upon the party going on deck, there were the crew drawn up, quite as smart as men-o’-war’s men, and all looking as eager as schoolboys to learn the meaning of their summons.
“’Tention!” said the captain; and, to use the old saying, the dropping of a pin could have been heard. “This gentleman, Sir John Meadows, Bart., is going to buy the Silver Star.”
“Hurrah!” shouted a man.
“Steady there!” cried the captain sternly. “He means to sail right away east, through the Canal, and along the islands, to stop here and there where he likes—two or three years’ cruise—and he wants to know if you will sign articles to go with him, and do your duty like men.”
There was a dead silence, and as the men began directly after to whisper together, Jack, who but a minute before had felt in his misery and despair that he would give anything to hear the men refuse, now, by a strange perversity of feeling, grew indignant with them for seeming to hesitate about doing their duty to his father.
“Well, my lads, what is it?” said the captain sternly. “What are you whispering about? Can’t you give a straightforward yes or no?”
There was another whispering, and the words “You speak,” “No, you,” came plainly to Jack’s ears, followed by one man shouting—
“We want to know, sir, who’s to be in command?”
“Why, I am, my lads, of course.”
“Hooray!” came in a roar; and then—“All of us—yes, sir, we’ll go,” and another cheer.