"Where's my father?" said the boy; "is he in his cabin?"
"Shore, at the Port Admiral's, sir," said the sentry.
Here was a disappointment; but it was something to have got on board in time, and the Skipper began to walk aft, while the Marine, taking it as a matter of course that the Captain's son should have come on board, resumed his watch.
There were not many men on deck, and they were all too busy to pay any heed to the boy, as he looked about, in vain, for the familiar figure, the coxswain. At last, he stopped a man carrying a lanthorn.
"Can you tell me where Jack Robinson is, please?"
"Who?" said the sailor, staring. "Ain't nobody o' that name here."
"I mean Tom Jeffs," said the Skipper hurriedly.
"Oh, him! Ashore with the gig, waiting to bring the skipper aboard."
Bob looked about again and finding himself close by, and knowing his way, he went nervously into his father's cabin, where a lamp hung beneath the sky-light, but it was turned down very low. The place was empty, and all seemed very dark and lonely, but he could hear the crew stumping about and making strange noises as if busy preparing to start. Then he started, for the steam whistle gave out a dismal shriek, and then there was a low hissing and humming noise, announcing that there was too heavy a pressure of steam.
The boy, after walking about the cabin a few times, sat down on one of the lockers, and the humming, buzzing noise of the escaping steam began to have a strange effect upon him. First he began to nod, and then he dropped off fast asleep, but started up again directly and began to walk about to try and keep awake.