He stepped out of the little cabin, but put his head in again.
“Open that window, Dale, my lad, this place is stifling.”
“Yes,” said the first mate. “On deck in a quarter of an hour, sir, or you’ll wish yourself on shore.”
They both left the cabin, and I only made poor Walters more bitter against me by bursting out laughing as he began to dress quickly.
“A set of brutes!” he grumbled; “a set of unfeeling brutes!”
“There, drop it now,” I cried; “I shall stop and help you.”
“You’ll stop till I help you,” he said through his clenched teeth. “I shan’t forget this.”
“All right,” I replied, and I left him to himself to cool down; but feeling sorry for him, and thinking that I had been unfeeling, I hurried off to the cook, who was pretending to be very busy in the galley, and who gave me a suspicious look as soon as I showed myself at the door.
“I say, have you got any beef-tea?” I asked.
“Beef-tea, sir!” he said, giving the lad with him a sharp look. “Anything else, sir?—Turtle, sir; gravy, spring, or asparagus soup,—like it now?”