“That’s just what I feel, sir,” said Bob, “with a dash of monkey in it.”
“A dash of monkey!”
“Yes, sir; as if I must run and jump about, or climb, or do something. It’s the fidgets with this heat. Let’s walk forward again, if you don’t mind. I think it’s cooler there.”
“Cooler, Roberts? It seems to me as if the deck is thoroughly hot, and as if one’s clothes were baking. I quite envy the lads, with their bare feet and open necks.”
They strolled forward again, with the monkey softly following them; and when they stood leaning over the bulwarks, listening to the ripple of the water under the vessel’s stem, the animal perched itself on one of the stays just above their heads.
They could almost have fancied they were at sea, gazing down at the phosphorescent water, so beautiful was the reflection of the stars in the smooth, dark current, as it glided swiftly along, rippling a little about the large buoy to which they were moored, and breaking the stars up, as it were, into a thousand tiny points, that divided into a double current and swept by the steamer’s bows.
“What a night for a couple of prahus to come down and board us, sir!” said Bob.
“Rather unlucky for them, if they did,” said the lieutenant quietly. “One good shot at them, or one of our biggest shells dropped into their hold, would crash through, and send them to the bottom. There’s no such luck, Roberts.”
“I suppose not, sir,” said Bob; but, all the same, he could not help feeling that this was a kind of luck which he could very well dispense with on a dark night. He did not venture to say so, though.
“How quiet they seem on the island!” said the lieutenant at last. “Heigh-ho! ha hum! I wish we were there, Roberts, along with the ladies; a cup of tea and a little pleasant chat would be very agreeable.”