“Course you would, sir; I know that,” said the old sailor, quietly. “Didn’t you give that there nigger a smeller just now?”
“What!” cried the doctor, sharply.
“Got in a temper with one of ’em for trying to steal more’n his share o’ ’bacco, sir, and give him two, one in the mouth and one in the cheek. Stop a moment; let’s tell the truth if I die for it. Warn’t one o’ them cracks on the nose, sir?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Carey, hurriedly. “But I did think at a time like this, you’d have been ready to fight, Bostock.”
“Bob, if it’s all same to you, Master Carey, and I didn’t say I warn’t ready to fight. Why, o’ course I will at the proper time.”
“Then I beg your pardon, Bos—”
“Bob, sir.”
“Well, Bob then, for we can’t sit down quietly like this.”
“That’s what I think, sir, but I aren’t the skipper, and it’s what the doctor says as’ll have to be done.”
“Yes, of course, Bostock,” said the doctor, hastily; “but I was so absolutely stunned by this surprise.”