“I haven’t seen him, but the steward said he seemed pretty well, sir.”
“Impossible. In such a delicate state of health. Have you seen the lady?”
“No, she has not been on deck.”
“No. It would be too rough,” sighed the poor fellow. “What’s that?” he cried, excitedly, “something wrong?”
“I’ll go and see,” I said; for there had reached us the sound of an angry voice, and then a noise as of something falling overhead, and as I hurried out and on deck, I could hear the captain storming furiously, evidently at one of the men.
Chapter Five.
“And sarve him jolly well right,” growled Hampton, looking at me as I hurried forward to where Captain Berriman was following up one of the sailors, who, with his hand to his bleeding cheek, was gazing fiercely at his officer and backing away toward the forecastle.
“Yes,” shouted the captain, “get down below and don’t show yourself to me again to-day, you scoundrel. Call yourself a sailor, and haven’t learned the first line of a sailor’s catechism—obedience to his officer.”