“Oh, yes, I hear,” said the captain.
“Then that is settled,” said Sir Humphrey. “Mr Briscoe, I trust that in the future we shall be better friends.”
“No fear of that, sir,” said the American quietly. “Sir Humphrey, you’re a gentleman. Mr Brace, you’re another. It’s going to be acts now, not words. I only say thankye, and I want you and your plucky young brother to believe me when I say you shan’t repent your bargain a bit.”
“I believe I shall not, sir,” said Sir Humphrey gravely.
“As for you, Captain Banes,” continued the new member of the expedition, “I’m going to show you that I’m not such a ruffian as you think. And now, gentlemen, as I haven’t had a wink of sleep for two nights, I’m going to ask the skipper to let me have a berth and to give orders for my man here to be furnished with a bunk. I’ve kept it up, gentlemen, as long as I could, but now I’m dead-beat. I’ve been asleep in my legs for long enough. Now it has crept up from my waist to my chest, and it’s attacking my head. In another ten minutes I shall be insensible, and when I shall wake again is more than I know, so I’ll say at once: Thank you all—all round, and good night.”
A little difficulty arose as to a berth; but this was soon solved by the second mate giving up his in favour of a mattress upon the cabin floor, and the brothers were left alone with the captain, who preserved an ominous silence, till Brace spoke half-laughingly:
“You don’t like the new arrangement, captain?”
There was a grunt. Then:
“Put that and that together, squire, would you if you were in command of this brig?”
“Certainly not,” said Brace quickly; “but I shouldn’t have put the poor fellows ashore.”