I could not resist the temptation of listening, and as I was standing close by the partition, I took a step nearer to the opening I had made, and softly drew aside the bottle I had placed before it.
Mr Frewen’s lips moved, and I took it that he said “Be careful,” so I nodded to him as much as to say “I will,” and listened.
I could not see through, for Mr Preddle had done as I had—drawn something before his side of the opening, which was so small and in such a dark part of the cabin, that unless searched for it was not likely to be seen.
“Well, sir,” cried Jarette, “when are you coming on deck again?”
“Coming on deck?” said Mr Preddle, wonderingly.
“Yes; those fish of yours want seeing to; I had to lift out half-a-dozen this morning with that string ladle of yours.”
“The little net?” cried Mr Preddle, eagerly. “That was very good of you. How do they all seem?”
“As if they wanted their master to come and feed them. They all swam up to the top and put their mouths out of the water; didn’t they, Hampton?”
“Ay, ay, that’s so,” growled Bob, “and they all called out, ‘Wittles, wittles,’ in fish, on’y they’ve got such little voices through being so much in the damp that you couldn’t hear ’em.”
The men laughed, and Mr Preddle joined in, but in a feeble forced way as he said weakly—