“Yes,” said the sailor, knitting his brow, “it’s all over now; but,” he added, thoughtfully, as he let the sheet slip through his fingers and tightened it again, giving and taking as the sail tugged in answer to the puffs of wind, “but it don’t seem like you to get into action like that, Master Aleck. You’re generally such a quiet sort o’ chap, and don’t mind the boys yelping about yer heels any more than as if they was dogs.”
“Of course, and I never for a moment thought that anything they could say would put me in such a passion. Oh, Tom, I felt once as if I could kill him!”
“Monkey must ha’ been up very much indeed, Master Aleck. I’ve been a-wondering what he could ha’ called you to make you clear the decks and go at him like that. You must have hit out and no mistake.”
“Yes, I hit them as hard as ever I could—both of them.”
“Both? Did you have two on ’em at yer at once?”
“Yes, part of the time.”
“Then I am glad you licked ’em. It was just like a smart frigate licking a couple of two-deckers. What did he call yer?”
“Oh, never mind, Tom; nothing.”
“But he must have called yer, as I said afore, something very, very bad indeed. Yer needn’t mind telling me, my lad, for I seem to ha’ been a sort of sea-father to yer. I’ve heered a deal o’ bad language at sea in my time, and I should like to hear what it was that made you fly out like that. Tell us what it was.”
“No, no; don’t ask me, Tom.”