“I’m not going to trust him particularly, nor keep him off,” said Syd, carelessly. “I say, though, how funny it is I find myself talking and feeling just as if I’d been at sea ever so long, instead of two or three weeks.”
“Soon get used to it. You’ve been very lucky, though.”
“How?” said Syd. “Being beaten nearly to a mummy, and then being sea-sick for a week?”
“Having that fight, and marking Mike Terry. It’s made all the fellows like you.”
“And I don’t deserve it.”
“Oh, don’t you! Well, never mind about that.”
“No; never mind about that,” said Syd, carelessly. “I say, where are we going?”
“Don’t know. Nobody does. Sealed orders to be opened somewhere. I can guess where.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes; at Barbadoes.”