“I could have brought you down like a bird. Why, you looked just like a Malay. Mark, what have you been doing, sir? rubbing your powdery hands all over your face?”
“I suppose so, major. What time is it?”
“Time the ship was cleared, my lad, but I suppose we must wait. Let me see,” he continued, referring to his watch. “I didn’t like to look before; it makes a man impatient for his breakfast, I’m seven o’clock. That’s three bells, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” said Mark.
“Think, and you the son of a captain in the merchant service! Why, I should have thought you would have been born a sailor.”
“Have you heard the Malays, sir?”
“Heard them! Yes, my lad, going about the ship with their bare feet on the planks; but they haven’t tried the door. There, rouse up the men while I wake Gregory.”
He touched the first-mate, who sprang up, revolver in hand, wide-awake, and ready for instant action.
He glanced sharply round, realised that all was right, and stuck the revolver in his belt.
“How’s the skipper?” he asked.