“Yes, there you are, lufftenant. Bit heavy, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, no, nothing much.—Now, my lads, look alive!”
There was a chorus of: “Ay, ay, sir!” and a few minutes later the contents of the last truck were reposing in the partitioned-off space in the brig’s hold.
Then, and then only, the second mate turned to the American, and, taking out one of the cigars presented to him, bit off the end.
“Now,” he said, “work done, play begins. I’ll trouble you for a light.”
“A light? Oh, certainly, lufftenant,” replied the American, handing his match-box. “You’ll like those cigars. They’re good ones.”
“I’m sure of that,” said the mate.
“Stop ashore, and have a bit of dinner with me up at the hotel.”
“You’re very good,” said the mate; “but I must get back on board. There’s a lot to do. I expect we shall drop down the river to-night.”
“Eh? Soon as that?”