“Matter, you insolent blackguard!” cried the midshipman. “If I were not on duty, and too much of a gentleman to soil my hands with a schooner’s loblolly boy, I would give you a sound thrashing with my belt.”
“Would you?” said Rodd coolly. “That’s the worst of you reefers. You are nearly all of you like that when you come ashore at Plymouth. It’s your uniform and the wearing of a skewer that makes you all so cocky. Now, do you know you have said what a fellow just your age once said to me at Saltash—but he didn’t. He had an accident, and then we shook hands, and I took him home to my uncle’s and helped him to bathe his face. It was such a hot day that his nose bled a good deal. But we stopped it. Nice fellow he was too, afterwards. So I dare say you’d be if I had taken you in tow a bit.”
“I understand you, sir,” panted the middy; “and look here, I shall not forget this.”
“Pooh! Yes you will,” said Rodd, with a mocking laugh. “I wish you were going to stop on board. We have got a spare cot here. Get your old man to give you leave when your lieutenant has done smelling in all the lockers below. You come while the two vessels are in company, and I’ll teach you how to use the gloves.”
“Oh, if I wasn’t on duty!” panted the middy furiously. “I haven’t got a card with me, but give me yours. We may meet again.”
“Hope we shall, I’m sure,” said Rodd. “I say, reefer, don’t be so jolly disappointed because you won’t have the price of half a nigger for prize-money.”
“Pah!” ejaculated the middy furiously; and turning his back upon Rodd he stepped to the side and looked over into the boat, to run his eye furiously over her crew, who were all sitting upon the alert, ready for any order that might be given.
But as he turned away and faced inboard, to his annoyance he found Rodd close up, smiling carelessly in his face.
“I say, reefer,” he said, “you do look hot.”
“Sir!” snapped out the middy, trying to look the boy down.