“Well, yes—no—you had better not try at present, my man. Get used to the deck first, and try and put some strength in your arms.”
“Please, sir, I—”
“That will do,” said the captain coldly. “Obey orders, and prove that you are worthy of what I have done, and what I am going to do. I don’t like professions.”
The captain walked away, and the stowaway stood looking after him, while Bruff walked up and smelled him suspiciously.
“Nobody don’t seem to believe in me,” said the man in a discontented tone of voice.
“Try and make them, then,” said Mark, who felt repelled by the man’s servile manner.
“That’s just what I’m agoin’ to do, sir,” said the man, speaking with the most villainous of low London accents.
“What did you say was your name?”
“David, sir; David Jimpny. He won’t bite, will he, sir?”
“No. Here, Bruff, leave that alone and come here.”