“Silly circle!” cried Carey, laughing. “I should think it was!”
“That’s right, sir—a black silly circle. ‘There you are, grinning idgits,’ I says; ‘now amuse yourselves with that, and while you’re busy I’ll go and cook the dinner and see if I can’t get hold o’ something for the Guvnors to cook Old King Cole’s goose.’”
“And did they eat the pickles?” said Carey, eagerly.
“Eat ’em, sir? That they did, very slow and careful too as soon as they found what they were like. They played fair too, each chap taking his bit in turn like young birds in a nest, beak wide open, bit o’ cauliflower or a couple o’ French beans popped in, beak shut, and then each chap shut his eyes, jumped up, and danced.”
“Just like children,” said Carey.
“They seemed to think the beans was some kind o’ worms or grubs, sir, and when it come to the capsicums, the chaps as got ’em rolled themselves on the deck with delight, and all the rest wanted ’em too. But I didn’t stop long; I was off, and they took no more notice o’ me till I began cooking, when they stood about to grin and smell. I got ’em, though,” said Bostock, mysteriously.
“Got what?”
“Three double guns, three revolvers, and a box o’ cartridges.”
“Oh!” whispered Carey, excitedly. “Where are they?”
“Rolled up in what’s left o’ the mains’l, and I folded it up and twisted a rope round it. Yonder it is, amidships.”