“You shall, Barney,” I said, turning to go.
“But I say, sir, ain’t they pretty lively down in the forksle?”
“Yes, very.”
“What did you serve out? Were it rum?”
“No, Barney, soup,” I said; “but wait a bit and they won’t be quite so merry.”
“No, sir, they won’t. It’s unlimited grog, for they’ve got plenty down below; but, as you say, wait a bit. They will have done by-and-by.”
“They will,” I said to myself, with a faint shiver of nervousness coming over me again as I descended the ladder, just as, relieved from duty, Bob Hampton and Neb Dumlow came aft.
“In with you,” I said, “and eat away. The others coming?”
“No, Mr Dale, sir; they’ve been having their snack along with the cook in the galley, and got it done.”
“The more for you then,” I said, trying to laugh, but feeling very serious indeed.