“I am thinking, Pickle, that after such a bad night as we had, we might just as well stay aboard and rest, and besides, as far as I can see everything’s muddy and wretched, and I fancy we should be better aboard.”
“Oh, I don’t know, uncle. We needn’t be long, and it will be a change. But here’s the Bun coming up to speak to you.”
“The what!” cried Uncle Paul.
“That man—Rumsey.”
“But why do you call him the Bun?”
“Oh, it’s the men’s name for him,” said Rodd, laughing. “They nicknamed him because he was such a round-faced fellow.”
“Beg pardon, sir,” said the man, making a tug at his forelock.
“Yes, my man; you want to speak to me?”
“Yes, sir; the lads asked me to say, sir, that as it’s been a very rough night—”
“Very, my man—very,” said Uncle Paul, staring.