“Yes, sir,” said the lad sharply, “very; but it will grow, sir.”
“Then I hope it won’t grow more stupid, boy. There, be quick!”
Bob ran down to the captain’s cabin, and obtained the required piece of headgear, with which he returned to the quarter-deck, where the captain was sipping his coffee, apparently oblivious of the fact that he had sent for his cap.
“Your cap, sir.”
“Oh, ah! to be sure! yes, of course. Thank you, Roberts. Exchange is no robbery, as we used to say at Harrow. You needn’t wait.”
“Thank you, sir; no, sir, but—”
“Now what is it, Roberts? You know I don’t like to be troubled after dinner.”
“Yes, sir; but I beg your pardon, sir. Might I have leave to go ashore to-morrow?”
“Yes—no. What, in the name of goodness, do you mean, Mr Roberts, by coming and asking me? Go to the first lieutenant.”
“Please, sir, I’m very sorry to trouble you, but he’s dining at the residency.”