“But he’s busy now.”
“Never mind; go on.”
It seemed a very simple thing to do to go up to the officer, touch your hat, and ask leave to go with the boats, but there was that peculiar something so hard to get over which keeps lads back from proffering a petition, and saves their elders and those in authority very often the pain of having to refuse.
Syd suffered severely on that occasion from this peculiar form of timidity, till he saw one boat manned and pull off with its load.
In another quarter of an hour the other would be ready, he knew, and then his chance would be gone.
The first lieutenant passed along the deck, and Syd thought he looked very severe. He came back, and he looked worse. It was impossible to ask him, and Syd shrank away and went to where Roylance was busy speaking to the coxswain of his boat.
“I say,” whispered Syd, taking him by the sleeve.
“Yes.”
“Ask the luff to let me go with you, there’s a good fellow.”
Roylance gave him a merry look.